


Revolution

by juggernaught



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Gore, Fights, Gen, Pokemon Fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-24 16:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 109,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7515124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juggernaught/pseuds/juggernaught
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven years prior to the beginning of the story, a revolution suddenly began between Trainer-owned Pokemon and their masters; today, those Pokemon that remain are divided into rebels and revolutionaries. Reyes, a level-headed revolutionary, is sent by their leader, Alakazam, to bring "the King" Dominic, a notorious and psychopathic rebel, to their main base.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1.1. The King of Bedlam

**1.1. The King of Bedlam**

Reyes remembered how, a very long time ago—what seemed like a lifetime ago, in fact—he enjoyed watching old movies with his Trainer, Brendan; he wasn’t The Brendan and wasn’t nearly as famous, but he was Reyes’ Brendan, which was what mattered. He was a goofy kid with too many freckles and braces and loved nachos and soft pretzels and old movies; consequently, Reyes, his very first Pokémon and life partner, did too, very much. _“In a world…”_ , most of their movies tended to start, and that was the same way every one of Reyes’ days started ten years later.

 

In a world, a world several light years away from the glorious “world of Pokémon” so revered and loved by every grade-school child with a T.V., the skies were dark (mainly allegorically but literally on some of the worse days), the streets were paved with blood and corpses, and every hour was a fight for something, be it food, shelter, or one’s life, human or Pokémon. It wasn’t a world of Trainer and Pokémon, Pokémon and Trainer any longer; no, it was just a world of Pokémon—dangerous, drugged-on-freedom, damn-the-consequences, there-is-no-god Pokémon.

 

He usually didn’t stray too far from the revolutionary’s grounds, but the previous day Alakazam seemed to want to test his patience by sending him all the way to Mauville City from his stay in Lilycove. Reyes remembered very well when Brendan stopped by to fill up at the PokeMart years prior; it was large and very advanced, full of people and life, but all Reyes saw at the moment was a decrepit city with holes in the skylight roof and rubble and shattered stores everywhere. Rebels wandered around, most eyeing him dangerously but none making moves as of yet; he got the feeling that his actual request would put his life in danger more than just swaggering onto some big shot’s turf.

 

He found the southern hall leading to the center of the city and was immediately stopped by a Garchomp and Hariyama standing guard; for what, he wasn’t sure, as there didn’t seem to be much to guard around there aside from the Bug-type Pokémon that abounded in the darkness. Ahead, a virtual wall of plaster chunks crookedly stacked on top of one another blocked any view he had of the plaza; the inside of the place was vaguely lit by old and flickering fluorescent lights and somewhere in the distance, a broken tune sounded from some old children’s carousel, giving it all a mysterious and macabre feeling like one of Brendan’s old Horror movies. “What are ya try’n’a do, pal?” the Hariyama said, blocking him with a hand; Reyes got the feeling that despite his friendly tone and words, they were far from being pals.

 

“I need to see the King.” The King wasn’t the king as in every-rebel-bow-down-to-me-muahaha, but his influence spanned across Mt. Chimney, Mauville, Verdanturf, and Lavaridge (Fallabor belonged to some wayward Sableye, the last Reyes heard), so in short, he controlled some of the more major parts in the region through sheer strength and guts, and that gave him the title of ‘King’ for both rebels and revolutionaries. From the rebels, he had fearful respect; from the revolutionaries, he had awed contempt.

 

“Hah!” the Garchomp laughed. “That’s freakin’ hilarious, y’know.”

 

“I’m quite serious,” Reyes said. “I’m here on Alakazam’s orders.”

 

That was quite a senseless thing to say in retrospect as they promptly became irate, prepared to crush him into bits. “Let ‘im through,” a young voice suddenly called from beyond the “wall.”

 

“Your Majesty!” Hariyama said, turning with surprise. “But—”

 

“Let him through before I slice both of you up!”

 

Garchomp grumbled angrily while Hariyama scratched his head, confused, but they pushed Reyes forward. He almost complained before he noticed just a bit of sunlight shining through a small crack in the “wall”; he approached it and saw that it was a small opening. He crouched down and slipped through, cringing at the journey through the pipe-infected plaster until he came out into the plaza, which was when he saw one of the most interesting things he had ever seen in his whole life…aside from the revolution.

 

Some Pokémon apparently had coordination enough to erect a throne out of stone, which sat on a mini-tower about four feet high; there were two more Pokémon—Aerodactyl and Salamence—standing guard on either side, and the infamous King was sitting on his throne. He was a…well, Reyes wasn’t sure; he was something from Unova or Kalos, which he still wasn’t too familiar with, with grey and red fur and a crown made of bleached bones on his furry head. He stared at Reyes with glacial eyes before scoffing, then he muttered something disdainfully under his breath, making an obscene gesture with his claws.

 

“Don’t you like what you see?” Reyes jeered.

 

“The King don’t bat in that park, if that’s what ya mean,” he sneered, propping his elbow up on the armrest and resting his head in his clawed hand. “Well, not unless there’s three anyway. So, what business does the revolution’ry army have with the King?”

 

Nothing says royalty more than the ostentatious and unnecessary third person, he thought, trying not to scowl at him. “Alakazam, the leader of the revolutionaries, wants to see you personally.”

 

All of the rebels including the King burst into riotous laughter, irking Reyes beyond anyone’s imagination; it was a foolish request and he knew it, even told Alakazam that, but he _insisted_ that Reyes go retrieve him anyhow with any means necessary. “Oh, wait, he might be serious,” the King said, raising a hand; immediately, the room fell silent—Reyes had to wonder what a guy like him did with power like that. “Why would the King go into any section of your territory, huh? You could off him at any moment and it would be warranted; he don’t see a point in doin’ this.”

 

“I don’t either, but I believe you know how the revolutionaries work?”

 

“Do what they say and you don’t get yourself killed?”

 

“Precisely.”

 

“In case you hadn’t noticed, that doesn’t apply to Pokémon like mahself.” He tapped his chest with his dangerously sharp claws. “I got more than enough protection against the revolution’ry army to sleep as soundly as a hatchlin’ as I send you to our butchers.”

 

“You’re quite the joy to be around, aren’t you?”

 

“I’ve been told,” he smirked, showing off canines of a similar danger level. “And why would the revolution’ries’ leader want to see the King?”

 

“I’ve no damn idea, but it would make things a lot easier if you would just shut up and comply.” That riled up the King’s bodyguards.

 

“Or maybe you could die,” he said thoughtfully, scratching his ear. “Then the King would technically never have received the message since the messenger would be found miles away. Yeah, that’s a great idea.” He snapped his claws and his Aerodactyl and Salamence rushed Reyes, surrounding him on both sides; he leapt into the air causing them to slam into each other. Salamence was paralyzed for a moment but Aerodactyl wasn’t, summoning several fist-sized rocks and launching them at Reyes; he used his leaf blades to slice them apart and ran Aerodactyl up, using its face as a springboard to launch onto its back. It spun, trying to get him off, which was when Salamence got back in action and fired a Flamethrower at him.

 

“Beautiful,” the King commented, clapping his claws together. Reyes gritted his teeth as he used Protect; the flames were repelled instantly, but that was when Aerodactyl managed to get him off, throwing him against the pile of rocks blocking the entrance. He shook his head out and focused in time to see the both of them charging him with incredible speed for their bulk. He extended his leaf blades and dug halfway into the ground; he wasn’t completely under, but he moved enough for Aerodactyl and Salamence to instead crash bodily into the rocks. They couldn’t move them (the rocks were apparently packed together very strongly) but the impact KO’d them on the spot, though sadly they fell on top of Reyes’ behind, forcing him lower into the ground. “Oh! Very lovely!” It sounded like the King was applauding.

 

“Bastard,” Reyes muttered, using Dig to move further up so he could climb free. He grimaced at the dirt and rocks covering his body and cleaned himself up quickly with his claws.

 

“The King likes you; you’re strong,” he chuckled, clapping his claws together. “But the King needs new guards if he’ll be travellin’,” he added, glancing at Aerodactyl and Salamence’s prone bodies.

 

“I’m adequate enough,” Reyes said; the King snorted as if he hadn’t just had an apt demonstration.

 

“The King will sleep on your request,” he said before sliding to the ground; interestingly enough, he was somewhat shorter than Reyes, and he had the remnant of a limp in his left leg. “Garchomp!” The Garchomp from outside squeezed through the hole obediently. “Deal with those two and then show our _guest_ to the upstairs apartments.”

 

“Sir—”

 

“You have yer orders,” the King interrupted. “Get to it.” He then disappeared into some shadows on the side of the room—damn Dark-types, Reyes thought. Garchomp grunted, disconcerted.

 

“He’s lucky I can’t kill ‘im,” he muttered, grabbing up the larger Pokémon easily with each arm. “C’mon, but I gotta get rid of these guys first.”

 

“Get rid of them?” Reyes asked. “They’re only KO’d.”

 

“Don’t matter,” Garchomp muttered, walking over to the northern entrance. It was sealed by a large and dented metal door instead of rocks, but was protected by Psychic-type Pokémon instead, and the door itself could only be opened psychically, he told Reyes; he barked a string of numbers and letters through a small peephole in the door and Reyes heard a reply from the other end before it swung open, revealing the rest of the decrepit Mauville. “The King has no need whatsoever for Pokémon that lose.”

 

——————

 

“Work…work…work damn it,” Reyes swore, sitting on the edge of the bed as he stared at his rebel-approved PokéNav that could supposedly pierce any signal interrupters, yet each time he attempted to contact local communications leader Jamal there were several beeps signaling a lack of communication. Finally, on his eighth attempt, he heard a raucous reply through loads of static.

 

“Whoever the hell this is, go away.” Reyes groaned internally as he remembered his given introduction, the one that made him think Alakazam enjoyed other Pokémon’s embarrassment.

 

“Pretty pink panties, Jamal.”

 

“Oh, hey Reyes! Always the ladies’ man,” Jamal chuckled, causing his PokéNav to vibrate; Reyes groaned and slapped his free hand against his forehead.

 

“I hope you remember that Whiscash always lose to Sceptile.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, so how’d it go?”

 

“Picture bad, then worse, then Bill’s crap, then expand the polynomial and that’s about it.”

 

“You didn’t get the King?”

 

“No, I didn’t, and frankly I question Alakazam’s judgement in finding him an asset,” Reyes replied testily.

 

“Well, he’s strong and has a good influence; maybe that’s it?” Jamal suggested.

 

“I don’t think the headaches are worth the power—he uses the third person, for Arceus’ sake! At first I thought it was out of arrogance, but now I think it’s just out of idiocy. Not to mention how callously the rebels treat each other. You know how we deal with mistakes on our end—a warning, slap-on-the-wrist, no dinner?”

 

“Uh-huh?”

 

“They _kill_ Pokémon; three have died already, two for losing to me and one for sparing the life of a baby Pokémon revolutionary, as I’ve heard, and if I see one more death I’ll lose it and gut the King myself.”

 

“Yeah, we all know your hang-up with pointless deaths, Reyes,” Jamal sighed. “When are you returning?”

 

“Hopefully by morning.”

 

“Then bear him until then.” With that, Jamal cut the connection. Reyes replaced the PokéNav in his rucksack and laid down on the made-up bed; surprisingly, the King kept the apartments in very nice condition despite the rest of Mauville’s niggardly appearance. He trusted his instincts enough to shut his eyes; maybe with a little rest he’d be in a good enough temperament not to shear the King bald. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when he opened his eyes the room was very dark and someone or something was fumbling with the window despite its lock; he slid to the ground and quietly crouched under it, waiting for the rebel to get in so he could deal with them.

 

The rusted lock popped and the window slid open just as a large black shadow toppled into the room, sending Reyes sprawling on the ground. “Get your butt out of my face,” Reyes hissed to the King, kicking him away and getting up. “What are you doing?”

 

“Sneakin’ in,” he said, his eyes glowing like blue beacons in the darkness; he flashed his sharp white canines with a mad cackle. “I have so many guards it was hard to put up an illusion against all of them, but I made it.” He leapt to his feet, shaking his fur out.

 

“For what?”

 

“To sneak out with you of course, to meet Alakazam!” He face-palmed as if it was so obvious, and perhaps it was to everybody else with an I.Q. that could moonlight as a shoe size.

 

“You slept on my request?”

 

“I’m a Dark-type, idiot! I only sleep durin’ the day,” he scowled. He was very out of character compared to earlier. “I wanted to agree right away but it wouldn’t seem, er, respectable.”

 

“That much I can understand, but not why you act like a douche—unless you actually are one?”

 

“No! Well, that’s subjective,” he admitted. “It’s just that I gotta act like a king or else they’ll eat me alive—literally, actually. Bein’ a rebel is all about fronts, lookin’ strong so you don’t get killed by everybody else.”

 

“So you’re the king to avoid getting killed?” Reyes asked. He let out a breath, then grinned.

 

“No, I love havin’ everybody else lick my feet.” Okay, he _was_ crazy. “But I will go with you, and we have to leave now before everyone makes a big deal of it.” He grabbed Reyes’ arm, his claws digging through his skin, but before he could protest the King pulled him through the window and down the three-story drop, but before they hit the ground he blasted the ground with Shadow Ball, pulverizing the large chunks of soil and rock to create a small hole that they heaped in.

 

“If you fall on my face one more time,” Reyes said from beneath him, “you’ll be falling in a grave next.”

 

“Whoops, haha, sorry.” He stood up and offered a hand; Reyes pointedly ignored it, getting to his feet. “C’mon; there’s a secret underground tunnel past the guards.”

 

“How do you know there’s a secret underground tunnel?”

 

“’Cause I made it, idiot!”

 

“Look, call me _idiot_ one more time and I’ll beat you so badly you’ll lose your last three brain cells,” Reyes warned; the King either didn’t take him too seriously or didn’t hear, because he stared ahead into the wild grass. He started to get his PokéNav out when the King made an exclamation of surprise. “What is the—”

 

Suddenly the King tackled Reyes, pinning him against the wall by his wrists; although Reyes’ night vision was nothing to be proud of, it seemed that his fur was bristling, his hackles raised. Behind him, several rebel guards were running to investigate. “Your Majesty, what’s going on here?” one of them, a Manectric, demanded.

 

“This revolutionary tried to take the King’s life,” he growled, leaving Reyes stunned at the situation’s sudden one-eighty; he didn’t expect the King or any of the rebels to be especially candid, even more so considering the world’s situation, but the fact that the others had no idea what was going on meant that it was something that he—the King—decided on the fly. Maybe he _was_ crazy, as Reyes thought, or maybe he hated the revolutionaries just that much.

 

“Why would you do that?” Reyes asked, genuinely curious. “If you wanted me dead, any of these Pokémon could’ve—”

 

“I don’t _want you dead_ ,” he said in a lower voice, his eyes narrowing until the blue rays of light created by them were like azure knives.

 

“Then _what_ do you want?”

 

The King’s replying smile was terribly twisted. “The King wants to kill you—it’s that simple.” He released one of Reyes’ arms to stab his claws into Reyes’ side; chlorophyll burst out from the resulting wound, matting the King’s fur and running down Reyes’ skin. Amazingly, there was little pain; it felt like the King had just cut some vessels, which seemed impossible due to the amount of dexterity necessary to do so, but if there was anything Reyes expected of him, it was precision in killing.

 

He grabbed the King’s arm, startling him, and pulled him forward, slamming his elbow down on the King’s; the bones at his joint instantly snapped, rendering his arm useless. The King bared his teeth with a growl, lunging forward with his other arm outstretched; Reyes dodged, causing his claws to stick into the wall’s plaster, and Reyes grabbed the back of his thick skull and slammed his head into the wall.

 

“I hope you’re sated,” he said, his voice muffled by the wall.

 

“Why are _you_ saying that?”

 

“Because you’ll get killed in about three seconds.” Reyes’ instincts went wild, and it didn’t take a genius to notice the sound of a dozen Pokémon aiming at his back. “Jeez, my nose is broken…”

 

Reyes spun around, using the King as a flesh shield, pinning his arms so that the King couldn’t break from his grip. “You all won’t attack him, will you?” Reyes taunted; the rebels instantly stopped, looking between them in confusion.

 

“Smart move,” the King remarked. “Smart, but clichéd.”

 

“Desperate times call for old tricks; I’m very willing to let you get horribly mutilated if it means saving myself, you sick and twisted bastard.”

 

“Hm… The King likes that attitude very much indeed.” He grinned as he snapped his claws; a dizzying feeling hit Reyes, causing him to release the King and stumble into the wall. It was as if a fog had lifted from his eyes; the other rebel Pokémon disappeared as well as their footprints, leaving them alone once more in the dead of the night.

 

“What…was that?” Reyes gasped.

 

“An illusion,” he elaborated. “I’m the Illusion Pokémon, Zoroark; it just takes a little eye contact and I can have ‘nyone and ev’ryone under my spell. I was testin’ your character…so to speak.”

 

“Yes, well, so to speak, I believe you’re clinically insane.” His grin widened, showing his dangerously sharp canines.

 

“Aren’t we all?”

 

“Apparently some more than others,” he muttered before adding, louder, “Does this mean you’ll come with me, Arceus forbid I lose _my_ sanity in the process?”

 

“No,” he said flatly.

 

“No?”

 

“No; _you’ll_ be coming with _me_. To the revolutionaries’ base,” he added for clarification, even though it still made no sense. “The King is a leader, not a follower.”

 

“Do you even know the way, Mr. King?”

 

“Of course I do, id—er, sir,” he corrected himself upon seeing the look on Reyes’ face. “We just have to take the Rusturf Tunnel to Rustboro.”

 

“Alright, before we go on some life-changing buddy-cop adventure, can I expect more menstruation from you? because if so, I’m calling Alakazam right now to reconsider.”

 

“We all have problems we deal with,” the King shrugged; it was actually the most normal thing he had said all day, actually. “And anyhow, we’ve gotta go before dawn; I’m at top condition during nighttime only.”

 

“I can see that,” he muttered, examining his rucksack; it had become shredded and his travel supplies were scattered across the grass.

 

“Like I said, we all have problems.” He bent down to collect Reyes’ belongings. “Like you and your battlefield PTSD.” Reyes froze.

 

“How do you—?”

 

“Didn’t I mention?” he laughed. “The King knows everything.”


	2. 1.2. Soothing Screams

Obviously, the King hadn’t had too much outside experience recently, because he looked around Route 117 as if it was the holy land itself, even though its grass and trees weren’t any different than any other southern route’s grasses and trees. “Take a picture, it will last you longer,” Reyes finally told him when he stopped at his sixth Berry bush.

 

“Oh, right!” Unsurprisingly he drew a cellphone from his mane and took several pictures.

 

“What’s your name, anyway?”

 

“…”

 

“…We have to keep moving, your majesty.”

 

“Mnn? Right, right—oh, dese are sho shweet!” he exclaimed, filling his mouth with Cheri Berries. “Mm shweet Arsheus thesh are delishous!”

 

“Zoroark—”

 

“And these Oran Berries are sour! Ack!” he continued, sticking his head into the bush and coming out with an armful of Berries. “But these Iapapa Berries are bitter, and these Pecha Berries are soft, and these Rawst Berries are crunchy! and I dunno what these are but they’re just right!”

 

“Those are Weedle Eggs, Your Royal Slowness.”

 

“I’ve had worse,” he said passively, stuffing his mouth with them; Reyes sighed.

 

“You’re going to get Poisoned, and I’m sure you know where that ends.” He made an ‘X’ with his arms for crossbones.

 

“Ish alwight,” he protested, digging deeper within the bush for more. “I’ve been Poishoned…doshens of timesh in my life—made me shtronger.”

 

“Or made you crazier.” But now that he thought about it, he realized that as many rumors that circulated about the King, there wasn’t anything on his background; in fact, Reyes was sure that nobody knew what hole he crawled out of to become the King in the first place. “And in any case, we should keep moving; time’s a-wastin’ and it’s very precious.”

 

“Uguu,” he complained, standing up and picking leaves and twigs from his fur. “Fine.” Reyes pulled his arm until they were travelling down the path, him doing so grudgingly.

 

“Out of curiosity, how old are you?”

 

“Ugh…fifteen.”

 

“…Would that be in human years?”

 

“No, that’s Pokémon years. Wait… Yup, that’s Pokémon years.”

 

“That can’t be right… That would make you six years my junior.”

 

“Yeah, a lot of Pokémon’re surprised for some reason,” he snorted, scratching behind his ears. “I mean, age has nothin’ to do with your general capability to be honest; this is why we have child prodigies and such. So I’m youn’; how does that make me ‘ny different from you, guy?”

 

“…Hm, I really can’t think of anything.”

 

“Exactly!” he exclaimed triumphantly, and as correct as he was, Reyes was tempted to beat him up anyway. Suddenly he threw his arm out, stopping Reyes in his tracks.

 

“What is it?” he demanded, looking around.

 

“…I’m waitin’,” the King said, irritated; from out of the bushes came a large Houndoom in response, tail whipping at the air like a knife. “What’s your business here?”

 

“You’re saying he’s not a rebel?” Reyes asked.

 

“Nope, and from your reaction, he’s no revolutionary either.” The Houndoom just growled, and in the next second he was charging the both of them.

 

Reyes had a chance as long as he didn’t take any of his Fire-type attacks, but that was pushing it considering a Houndoom’s base Speed; luckily he didn’t have to think it through too much, as the King intercepted his attack using Tackle, ramming him backwards but knocking himself back into Reyes. Houndoom landed on all fours and shook himself out before releasing a Flamethrower; the King countered it with his own, and the flames nullified each other.

 

“I’ll take care of him,” Reyes said, pushing the Zoroark away to lunge forward, leaf blades extended. “I got it!” the King said concurrently, and the result was that they tripped over each other and landed in a tangle of limbs on the dirt path; the Houndoom snorted, regarding them with disgusted eyes.

 

“This is the King of the rebels?” he asked dubiously. “This is what the great revolutionaries amount to?”

 

“The King is _way_ greater than the damn _revolutionaries_!” he proclaimed, jumping to his feet. “I’ll tell ya what—” Suddenly he stopped, dropping to the ground and curling into a furry red ball.

 

“What the—” Reyes was cut off as Houndoom lashed at him with his claws, leaving streaks of orange fire in his wake; Reyes barely dodged it before dealing a Power-Up Punch to his belly, launching him into the air. He extended his leaf blades and dealt a powerful X-Scissor to the Houndoom’s side, powerful enough to draw blood. He hit the ground before Reyes, rolling to his feet and biting down on Reyes’ left blades before he could strike again; instead, Reyes kicked him in his face, causing his neck to crack but not loosening his grip at all. Chlorophyll ran between his yellowed teeth as he spun around, throwing Reyes away; Reyes skidded across the dirt before coming to a rolling stop, his blades completely torn away.

 

He rolled to his knees just as the Houndoom came bounding back, jaws wide and fire building in his maw; Reyes grabbed a fistful of dirt and tossed it in his eyes, blinding him and slowing him, and he crossed his arms, drawing the leaves from the nearby trees to swirl like miniature blades around him. Houndoom couldn’t move any closer, but he wised up and instead focused on the King’s prone form; Reyes dispelled his attack in time to see him race towards the Zoroark, flames heated to melting point. Reyes gritted his teeth and dropped to his knees; with his hands glowing he struck the earth with his fists hard enough to cause it to shake and tremble beneath the Houndoom’s paws, throwing him off-balance and giving him enough time to completely repel him using Dual Chop. He then grabbed the King’s arm, irritated; he really chose _that_ moment to take a nap?

 

“ _Wake up already_ , you royal pain,” he growled.

 

“I’m…awake…”

 

“Then do something already.”

 

“I ca…my stomach…” he groaned. “Po…Poison…”

 

“I warned you, didn’t I?” He plucked one of the seed pods from his back and shoved it into the King’s claws. “Eat this; you’ll feel better.”

 

“I can’t…eat…hurts…” Reyes grabbed the pod and shoved it into his face hole.

 

“There, problem solved.” He turned to see the Houndoom getting back on his feet, angrier than before if such a thing was possible. “Feeling better?”

 

“Uguu,” he said, Reyes’ pod crunching between his teeth. “What the hell’s in this…?” He took one step forward and collapsed again, except this time he was shaking very badly. “Ugugugugugu….”

 

Houndoom charged again, but this time Reyes was ready, however, instead of attacking Reyes directly, he shoved his flaming maw down into the ground; it rumbled briefly before a torrent of flames rose up from beneath Reyes’ feet, completely frying him. He hit the ground, dazed and with black spots dancing in his vision. He heard the Houndoom laugh as he bit down on Reyes’ right leg, and with a small amount of force he tore it away from Reyes’ body; it hurt, although not as much as the burns, but he was a Grass-type, he could grow it back easily—the burns were the only real problem.

 

“This isn’t…over yet,” Reyes warned, opening his pods to the moonlight.

 

“I think it is,” he replied, turning his attention to the King, who had begun whimpering in addition to shaking; he bit down on his neck, bringing him up and squeezing, creating deep teeth marks and causing blood to spill down the King’s fur. Reyes didn’t have very much strength to spare, but he hadn’t failed Alakazam on a mission yet, and he wasn’t planning to; he put all of his energy into his remaining leaf blades, extending them until they were as long as real blades, and put them to Houndoom’s neck. In a single movement, his head was sent rolling, his body collapsing in a bleeding heap; the King was released to the ground, shaking weakly.

 

“Zo…” Reyes’ blades dispelled and separated into grass right before he hit the ground.

 

——————

 

Reyes realized he was staring at the sky; he wasn’t sure how long he spent doing so, but it seemed that he had been unconscious for some hours, as the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. He rolled onto his back to inspect himself; his extremities had grown back, and his skin was still a decent work-in-progress. He got to his knees and slowly stood up; although he was slightly dizzy, it would pass in due time with enough light. He looked around, finding the world sparse of one Zoroark; though the prospect of living the rest of his life without his Royal Irritation was just too perfect to pass up, he had to finish his mission.

 

“King? Where are you?” he called, searching the nearby shrubbery and burrows; although he found plenty of Diglett and Sandshrew, he didn’t find the King. He looked down at the ground and noticed a familiar set of three-toed footprints in the mud; they led to the forest’s pathway, which had dirt too hard to retain any sort of footprints, ending the trail there, although it did land him a few paces away from the Rusturf Tunnel. He couldn’t assume that he travelled ahead on his own; if he went all the way to Rustboro just to find that pain wasn’t there, he would have wasted too much time and said pain could’ve gotten far on his own. Maybe he went back to Mauville; good riddance, in that case. Then Reyes remembered the injury that Houndoom gave him; if the King attempted any sort of travel in that condition, he would’ve bled out and died quickly.

 

“King? King!” He finally gave up after fifteen minutes; at that point, he had searched a good circumference around the tunnel, more than enough space for a Grass-type to cover faster than a Dark-type, and if Reyes was to assume that the King had woken up before him, well, then he was long gone. He headed into Rusturf Tunnel to Rustboro; he had to tell the others the bad, or in his case, great news. He walked maybe seven paces into the tunnel when the light from the mouth suddenly disappeared—no, not disappeared, it was consumed by darkness; there was another Dark-type in his midst, and not any friendlier than the Houndoom or the King.

 

“Did you honestly think Kurt came alone?” a high, reedy voice cackled; the cavern’s walls made it sound ubiquitous, so Reyes couldn’t pinpoint the Pokémon’s location.

 

“I didn’t expect anybody to threaten me again after seeing what became of him.”

 

“Fair enough.” There was a tiny _thud_ , then a quick scuttling sound behind him; he swept out of the way just as a ring of sparks flew when claws collided with a rock, illuminating the sneaky face of a Sableye. He vanished into the darkness as the light died out, then Reyes heard its laugh ricocheting off of the stone walls. “But with him having weakened you, you’re a great target.”

 

Not good, Reyes thought, clenching the ring of still-healing skin between his leg and body. I can’t fight like this, and especially in the dark.

 

A pair of glacial eyes appeared behind the Sableye.

 

 _Gee, I wonder who_ that _is._

 

“Who are you two anyway?” Reyes prompted when silence befell them; he watched the King’s eyes close, then they opened again a few feet to the right.

 

“You think I’d tell you?” that Sableye hissed, gemstones briefly catching the light and reflecting his countenance; that light was the only thing that made Reyes able to dodge the invisible attack that went his way. He slid to the left, which was when the tiny but pesky Pokémon latched onto his throat, putting him in a choke hold; he stumbled into a stone column, gasping for air while the Sableye laughed.

 

“A-Arceus, you-you’re annoying, you a-a-and that damn K-King.” He tried slamming his back into the wall, but each time that damn Sableye leapt to the top of his head, causing him to damage his shoulder blades and tail instead. He spun around, banging Sableye against a gemstone-filled column; there was a loud chomping sound on his head, which he took to mean that he wasn’t affected by it. He attempted to grab Sableye with his vines, but he just tied them in knots; he also tried his leaf blades, but it appeared that he ate them—luckily, he could grow those back too.

 

Sableye, with his dual rows of needle-like teeth, started eating away at Reyes’ skin; had he had real flesh, it could have been slightly more difficult, but as it were his epidermis was made up of grass with a cloyingly sweet taste, as he’d been told. He snapped the vines apart and grabbed Sableye’s leg; he shimmied down to his neck again, squeezing it while simultaneously digging his claws in. Chlorophyll burst from the resulting wound, filling Reyes’ esophagus and preventing him from breathing; he had to slit his own throat a bit to give his blood a way of escape. Apparently, the smell was really appealing to Sableye, because he leapt free from him to the stony ground to lick it up; Reyes kicked him away, feeling his throat and head sting.

 

“…They’re the factionless…so to speak,” the King said; his syntax and tone had both done a complete one-eighty. “They don’t ally themselves with the rebels or revolutionaries; they’re the Pokémon that are just drunk on the idea of killing and getting away with it… Have you ever watched _The Purge_?”

 

“I thought Kurt incapacitated you,” the Sableye growled; Reyes saw sparks fly as their claws collided.

 

“It takes a lot more than that to put the King down.” Some of the darkness abruptly vanished, clearing up an odd ellipse around the King and Reyes. Reyes looked over at him; his expression was coolly, detached if he had to be specific. “It takes a rebellion, hellfire, depression, bad memories… Not a lot more, but more than you can give, half-pint darkness pellet.” He put his claws together and snapped them apart; the darkness converged around him alone like some sort of magnet, then it scattered in reddish-black waves, passing through inanimate objects like stones and stalagmites and smashing them into bits. The dark waves passed through Reyes’ body, and although he felt a severe chill that was the worst of it; that Sableye screeched as the darkness hovered around him like a horde of angry black bees, pulling and biting and creating bleeding welts on his violet skin.

 

“Y-You…! What is this?” Sableye swore loudly as he batted at the darkness; if anything, that made it worse, and it started corroding his gemstone eyes.

 

“Night Daze,” he said. “I am the King, a denizen of darkness and centurion of those inferiors that dwell within it.” Yeah…that’s not the same guy as before, Reyes thought. He must have a severe form of DID. “The King invade homes, kill and fornicate as he pleases, and he does whatever the hell he wants; who are you to stop him?”

 

“I… I am…” If possible, his voice had gone even reedier; the King laughed at that, a sound worse than the Sableye’s that resounded like the Devil’s laughs.

 

“You’re _nothing_.” That Sableye screeched and screamed as his eyes melted into pools of silver, then his skin started disintegrating in the same manner, exposing his small skeleton as if he were some sort of Halloween decoration. Reyes grabbed the King’s wrist, thoroughly fed up with his twisted theatrics; the King’s replying expression was fatal.

 

“Just kill him; I’m sick of your torturing method.” His voice was horribly coarse from his injuries.

 

“Nobody stops the King’s fun,” he hissed, freeing his arm and slashing Reyes’ face; chlorophyll dripped down his chest and his left eye went dark. Reyes pulled away from him and he melted into the darkness, although he was still breathing noticeably, whether inadvertent or not. He set his jaw; he would have to deal with the King if he was going to be like that. Somewhere along the way, while the King was trying to become “friends” with a female Manectric, he managed to buzz Jamal and have him run a scan on Zoroark; among that information was a certain trick that Reyes could use to incapacitate him. The problem was finding him in the darkness, and with him being a Dark-type, that was about as plausible as catching Reyes in the forest. “Night Daze…”

 

The darkness converged again, baring the King’s form; Reyes raced towards him in the two seconds of light that he had, blades crossed, and tackled him to the ground. “Don’t make me do this again,” he muttered before digging his claws into the King’s temples; his eyes widened, then they crossed a little in an unfocused way. He got off of him and watched him try to stand, fall, try again, then crawl around pathetically with his eyes still crossed. “Don’t even try; I know that your balance receptors are in your temples, and with the pressure I put on them you won’t be standing…or walking…or moving in a straight line for a while.”

 

His ears fell, and although Reyes wasn’t sure what, something in his eyes changed. “Ugugu, that hurt…” he whined. Reyes grabbed him by his scruff, thoroughly PO’ed by his fickle personality, and pulled him up; he had to enjoy the guy tremble on his feet like a newborn Electryke for his own sanity. “It’s not funny…”

 

“It very much is…also, you’ve never answered my question.”

 

“Whaaat?”

 

“What is your _name_?”

 

He rubbed his temples with his claws, probably trying to sort himself out. “Depends.”

 

“On what, on whether you’re psychopathic or not?”

 

“Why, yeah,” he mumbled. “But…I guess…if I had to give you one…Dominic.”

 

“Dominic? And that isn’t a fake name or anything?”

 

“I’m not _that_ ingenious, Sceptile.”

 

“Likewise, Reyes.”

 

“Reyes… Oh, that name bites,” he grimaced.

 

“ _Bites_? What’s that mean?” he demanded.

 

“Nothin’ in particular…” He smirked wickedly, although that lost most of its appeal when he fell flat on his face.

 

_Dominic… ‘Of the Lord.’ How-freaking-ironic._

 

“How did you get to Hoenn anyway? You’re a Unova Pokémon, or Kalos, I can’t be sure. And then there’s how you came to be the King, followed by why you would be crazy enough to be the King in the first place—”

 

“Ah-ah-ah.” He waggled his claw in Reyes’ face when he finally regained his balance. “Curiosity killed the Sceptile…or maybe the King did because he was bored. Eh, it goes either way for me.”

 

“ _Reyes_ might kill Reyes if he hangs out with you any longer,” Reyes muttered; Dominic beamed before turning to the cave’s exit. “Honestly, I don’t think you hear half of what I say.”

 

“Honestly, I don’t hear most of what you say…or most of what ‘nybody says; my ears, see, they’re stuffed full with earplugs all the time. Sometimes I read lips, ‘n’ sometimes I can hear a li’l.”

 

“Why? As a wild Pokémon…hearing is one of your most important senses.”

 

“You’ve no idea what I hear,” he muttered bitterly before grimacing. “If you had to spend a single second in my brain, you’d go crazy too.”


	3. 1.3. Dreams Are For Heretics

As far as opinions went, Dominic’s opinion of Reyes was…not good; he was a real stiff, or very stiff, and had a twig shoved so far up his anus Dominic was sure he’d forgotten about it, as well as a chip on his shoulder so big all the salsa in the world couldn’t cover it. Even so, Dominic was a good judge of character (ironic, really, considering how jacked-up he was in the head) and decided that Reyes was actually a good guy beneath all of his stiffness; he had to be to have stayed with Dominic for six hours and not attempted to kill him like many others have, and that was even before he became the King.

 

“Reyes…slow down…” he pleaded, having fallen behind; the sun was strong and that really didn’t help his cold-bloodedness. That was why he loved Mauville City so much; the ceiling blocked the sunlight so he could actually _survive_ during the daytime.

 

“Excuse me? I can’t hear his royal highness.” Oh, yeah, he had a real sense of humor next to that chip, sort of like a cheese dip—yeah, cheese dip, it was cheesy enough to be that; maybe he thought it was funny, Dominic didn’t know, but it just made him look like a masochist.

 

“I…I said…slow down…please…”

 

Reyes the Dick pretended to be confused, looking all around. “What? I’m sure I hear something; must be a Combee.”

 

“Reyes, stop playing, c’mon; I’m dyin’ over here…”

 

“Hm, that damn Combee just won’t go away.”

 

“Argh, _please_ ,” he said, about to cry from exhaustion and the pain in his neck; Reyes finally stopped and turned, allowing him to catch up, but he only managed about three steps before he fell on his face.

 

“Dominic, are you okay?”

 

“S-Sun…” he moaned, covering his eyes with his claws. Dark-types just weren’t built for daytime; his eyes were highly photosensitive, which made them real sore when the sun was up, and his skin was heat-sensitive too, even beneath his fur, and the bite marks on his neck didn’t help. Reyes sighed and pulled him up, putting an arm around Dominic’s waist to help support him. “Thanks, Reyes…”

 

“Shut up.” He helped Dominic the rest of the way until the grass beneath their feet shifted to the dirt roads of Rustboro; unlike the majority of Hoenn, it was revolutionary-controlled, meaning that Pokémon _and_ humans could freely roam around together, as gross as that was. He went to the Pokémon Center and set Dominic on a chair; being out of the sun revived him a little, but he still felt roasted. “Are you alright?”

 

“I’ll be…fine,” he mumbled, licking his fur. “Sunlight is…urgh…generally bad for us Dark-types—irritates the skin, cold-blooded and crap.”

 

“Cold-blooded and yet you’re so thick-skinned.”

 

“Hah… The King doesn’t like funny guys,” he snorted tiredly.

 

“Why do you keep doing that third person thing? It’s obnoxious and moronic.” Dominic looked at the ceiling.

 

“Because…if the King does it…then Dominic isn’t responsible…”

 

“But you’re the same person; you _are_ the King and you _are_ Dominic.”

 

He just sort of sighed, not really denying it; Reyes just gave up on him and approached the Chansey stationed next to Nurse Joy. She recognized him almost immediately. “Oh, Reyes, what happened?” she wailed, fretting over his injuries.

 

“That bastard happened,” he answered, pointing at Dominic; she looked between them, her eyes worried.

 

“Is that…?”

 

“Yes, that is the rebels’ king.”

 

“Hiya,” Dominic greeted.

 

“But he looks so…nonthreatening,” she whispered, staring at him as he picked at his claws; he grinned at her, which seemed to scare her a little.

 

“At least he looks innocent; it might save his life someday. But in any case, can I get some treatment, Meryl?”

 

“Of course!” She bustled him through the doors into one of the recovery rooms, leaving Dominic alone in the lobby. There weren’t many others in the Pokémon Center, but the ones that were inside gave him three looks: the first was confusion, then the second was double-checking their PokéDex, and the third (reserved just for the revolutionary Pokémon) was pure pure contempt. It didn’t affect him directly since he was pretty desensitized to it all, but some part of his dried-up heart still tingled.

 

“Ugugu,” he groaned, dropping his head on the armrest. He was hungry; those Berries just wouldn’t do it for a carnivore like him. Reyes was a Grass-type, so maybe when another revolutionary came by…

 

“All right, thanks.” Reyes came out of the room with bandages over the ripped parts of his skin with that Chansey behind him. “Also, can you do something for him?”

 

“What?” She waddled over to Dominic, touching his face and chest; the contact made him giggle before he caught his wits and growled at her, spreading his claws in warning. Undaunted, she inspected the injuries on his neck and grabbed a first-aid kid from the front counter; she sprayed the open parts left by Houndoom’s teeth with some antibacterial that stung and made him giggle a little more, then she wrapped his neck with clean white bandages. “Now, I have work to do; have a good day Reyes, and you too, King.” She hurried back to help Nurse Joy.

 

“Are all revolutionaries so…exultant?” Dominic asked.

 

“What, is that a bad thing?”

 

“No, just weird—you’re weird too.”

 

“Are we really discussing oddities? because if so you should stop right now before your hypocrisy chokes you.”

 

“I know I’m weird and I won’t deny it,” Dominic said pointedly. “Well, not weird, but insane—I’m insane.”

 

“So you admit to it.”

 

“I’ve never denied it.” He grinned, tapping his nose with his claw. “I’m very very insane and that’s why I’ve been alone for so many years—wait, that ain’t a good thing.” He made a sad face.

 

“Look, I’m not going to judge you because in this world and especially because of Pokémon like you, psychoses aren’t uncommon, but I can’t stand having _yours_ so close to me.”

 

“Well, since yer boss wants me, yer stuck with me!”

 

“Yes, I know,” he sighed as if it was a world-class effort to be with Dominic. “And in any case, transport should be arriving very soon, so we should just wait patiently—”

 

“I don’t wanna wait patiently,” he said, getting to his feet. “I wanna look around! I haven’t been outside in a lon’ time and it’s all so amazin’!”

 

“This city is dirt and rocks.”

 

“Dirt ‘n’ rocks’re amazin’ too!”

 

“I’m curious: did a rock ever fall on your head, either at birth or very recently?”

 

“Sev’ral, actually—why?”

 

“…No reason in particular.” They went outside and sat on the curb, watching cars drive by and waiting for Reyes’ revolutionary transport.

 

“You guys are not that fast,” Dominic commented after ten minutes.

 

“Yes, because the rebels appear highly organized,” Reyes responded acerbically. Dominic didn’t say it, but he knew that the rebels were actually very organized and very well-trained; in fact, there had been dozens conspiring on even the teams of the Elite Four before the revolution began, making the plain plausible at the time.

 

“Why did ya become a revolution’ry?” Dominic asked.

 

“I’m not required to tell you anything not pertaining to the mission.”

 

“That ain’t fair—you asked me.”

 

“Yes, well I’m a bastard.”

 

“That won’t do… Maybe if I use an ill—” Suddenly Reyes’ leaf blade was against his jugular.

 

“That sentence better end with _illiteracy_.”

 

“…It does now.” He waited until Reyes moved his arm and sighed. “I’m not any happiyah about this than you, y’know.”

 

“I couldn’t tell.”

 

“No, seriously… I hate you guys—no offense.”

 

“No offense taken—we hate you too.”

 

“When you say things they sound so cruel…” Reyes didn’t respond. “Can I ask a question? It’s not weird or personal, promise.”

 

“Not that your word matters much, but what is it?”

 

“You Grass-types… Do you, like…” he made a politically-incorrect gesture with his claws, “…or do you pollinate with seeds like real plants? I’m curious.”

 

“Curiosity will kill the Dominic someday.”

 

“…Seriously, where is that transportation?” Dominic asked after an hour. Reyes shrugged one shoulder, then he turned away to make a call on his PokéNav; meanwhile, Dominic started walking around, curious. He went around the corner behind Devon Corporation and saw a pair of human boys—maybe secondary school age, he wasn’t sure—beating something on the ground that was under a bush; they were laughing too, although it wasn’t out of happiness.

 

“Wait!” one of them, a tall one with red hair, said, turning to his friend as he checked his watch. “We have to get going; Mom expected us home fifteen minutes ago!”

 

“Shoot!” the other one said, and they both took off down the path, passing Dominic easily. He turned to the bush and crept over, smelling it; there was blood, blood and some scent he wasn’t sure of. He peeled away the leaves and saw a tiny Skitty trembling on the dirt; she was covered in bruises and mud and blood and she was dying. He tried to pick her up but she shied away from his claws, weak as she was.

 

“N…No,” she whispered, her voice raspy. “I’ll be…I’ll be fine…” He tried again but she yelled at him, although it caused a stream of blood to run from her mouth. “I’ll be…” Her ears drooped and her eyes fell shut, and seconds later her small chest stopped moving. He smelled her; she smelled like blood, which he knew, but…she smelled like a mother too, that other scent. Dominic crouched down and dug a small hole in the ground; he placed the Skitty inside and covered her up, then he marked the spot with a ring of pebbles and closed his eyes, giving her a moment of silence. When he opened them, he noticed Reyes was still busy with his call; from the severity of the conversation, he would be for another few minutes. That was good.

 

He found her cubs, also, a few feet away; they were mostly concealed by a bush, two Skitty and a newborn Azurill, whose skin was greyish from sickness. They weren’t dead, but they were malnourished and ill from the elements; nature wouldn’t be lenient with them for that, so he spared them by causing them to bleed out. He buried them next to their mother, and although he didn’t believe in any sort of afterlife, he imagined that there was one for their sakes. As an afterthought, he added baby carrots; he could’ve put pomegranate seeds, but where they were going…maybe Arceus liked carrots.

 

The redhead’s name was Kenny and his friend’s name was Harris. They were at Kenny’s house playing some video game on the Wii; Harris was winning and Kenny didn’t like it. Kenny’s home was an apartment near Devon Corp. and was pretty clean and organized, except for his room; he and Harris went to the local middle school and liked video games, Bronzor Bomb ice cream, and playing around with stray Pokémon.

 

“Hey, did you hear something?” Kenny asked.

 

“Stop trying to distract me.”

 

“No, I’m serious; it sounded like someone else is home.”

 

“Nah, it’s just your Mom in the kitchen,” Harris said passively, spreading out on the couch.

 

“You’re right…but you’re still not winning this game.”

 

“Haha!” Harris yelled triumphantly as their game ended. “I already did, loser!”

 

“I hate this game anyway,” he complained, throwing his controller at Harris.

 

“It’s your favorite game; quit being a sore loser.”

 

“I’m not… Mom, is dinner ready? I’m hungry as hell,” he called; he looked confused when he didn’t get an answer. “Mom?”

 

“She probably got her headphones in again,” Harris muttered. “Tell her that our music is for _us_ , not _her_.”

 

“Why don’t you tell her, bastard?” Harris just snorted. Kenny made a face, then he looked towards the kitchen.

 

“That sound definitely wasn’t Mom.” The electricity went out, bathing them in darkness.

 

“This is creepy,” Harris said worriedly. “I’m going ho—”

 

“Harris?” Kenny whispered, walking around blindly in the dark while Pokémon could see quite perfectly. Useless damn humans. Dominic created a Will-‘o’-Wisp, giving Kenny just enough light to see Harris’ severed head in his claws. Kenny screamed in terror, slamming against the door but finding it jammed; his eyes bulged until they nearly popped out of his skull and he stumbled backwards, his back hitting the wall. He squeezed Harris’ head between his claws until his skull cracked; Kenny turned really pale like he was going to die at the moment.

 

“P…Please… Is this…” He was crying, snot running out of his nose and everything, and he was urinating himself. “Is this…b…because of the stray? It was…we were playing…” The King pinched Kenny’s nose, grimacing slightly.

 

“Then you should’ve played a little smarter, bastard.”

 

——————

 

“Dominic, I’ll call Officer Jenny on you right now if you don’t confess.”

 

“Confess what?” Dominic asked; he’d only made it to the Pokémon Center two seconds ago and Reyes was already giving him a terrible look.

 

“Whatever you did that got you covered in blood like that.”

 

“Oh…” He looked at his fur, which was crusted with red. “Maybe I should’ve taken a shower?”

 

“Or maybe you should grow whatever part of your brain that you’re missing. What did you _do?_ ”

 

“Ugugu… Some kids were messin’ with a stray Pokémon.”

 

“…And?”

 

“T…The King taught them never to do it again,” he said confidently. “And they won’t.”

 

“Jeez,” Reyes sort of sighed-cursed. “Arceus.” Then he sort of cursed-cursed—really cursed—like, Dominic wasn’t even sure most of them were words. Then he tore away the leaf blades from one arm and grabbed Dominic’s arms; he pulled them behind Dominic’s back and tied his wrists together with his leaves.

 

“Oi, I don’t like dominants.” He felt his mane getting pulled as Reyes tugged his ponytail’s band free, then Reyes spun him around to shove it over his muzzle, clamping his mouth shut.

 

“Just shut up, okay?” Reyes ordered, and something about his tone was, like, war general-ish; it made Dominic shut up immediately. He looked Dominic in the eyes for a long time, genuinely scaring him, before he turned away, redialing someone on his PokéNav.

 

Okay… Dominic thought. Reyes can be scary. Revolutionaries are scary too.


	4. 1.4. A Madman's Transgressions

_‘Momma taught me that in my mind_

_‘There is fun and whimsy and colors of all kind,_

_‘But a good Zorua puts them away_

_‘And a good Zorua he will stay…’_

_‘Momma taught me that in my mind_

_‘There is fun and whimsy and colors of all kind,_

_‘But let them free and others will go,_

_‘Because no one wants to be around a psycho.’_

 

Reyes kicked away the words Dominic spent ten minutes scratching in the dirt with his feet. “Don’t be so damn creepy,” he muttered before returning to his PokéNav. “What do you…we’ve been here for five hours; you said it was going to be…what? _Alakazam himself_ asked for…Arceus, this is why you all need organization—don’t curse at me, Damon; I’ll beat you to the eighth dimension. …We’re in Rustboro at the moment, and we’re trying to meet with Alakazam in Ever Grande. …Slateport? It’s doable, but…fine, fine, if it works for him.” He hung up and replaced the device in his backpack, then he looked at the words Dominic rewrote. “What is that anyway?”

 

“A song from childhood.”

 

“A song from childhood… What does it mean?”

 

“It’s proper manners to keep your illusions in your own head, like a good little Zorua,” Dominic said, pointing at the first stanza. “That’s what my…owner taught me…”

 

“And this other one?” Reyes pointed at the second stanza.

 

“That was what they said to me.”

 

“ _They_ who?”

 

“Fer all the questions ya ask, ya don’t take many,” Dominic pointed out. “We have to go to Slateport?”

 

“That’s what Transportation said.”

 

“I get seasick,” he complained.

 

“Oh, shut up; we’re taking a boat.”

 

“I get seasick…”

 

“Arceus, you really think I care about your problems.”

 

“Why can’t we take a plane or something to Ever Grande?” he whined.

 

“We can’t use just any sort of transportation, because then rebels could easily find their way into the city; we have a specialized defense system that naturally keeps them out, but if they’re led inside by a revolutionary, we can’t do anything to stop them.” He refitted the ring over Dominic’s mouth, sealing it shut, and pulled him to his feet.

 

“Mmmffmfm.” He made an illusion of fried fish.

 

“You’re hungry?” Dominic nodded. “You better learn photosynthesis, because I’m not taking that off.” He whined and made an illusion of a skull and crossbones. “You won’t _die_ , Arceus.”

 

Reyes visited a PokeMart briefly; he picked up several Full Restores and Escape Ropes, and made a face when Dominic tried to pick up a bag of barbecued chips. “Mmffmmfmm,” he complained when Reyes threw it back.

 

“Those aren’t even healthy; they’re full of artificial crap.”

 

Do I look like I care? Dominic wanted to say. Reyes brought the items up to the counter and paid the cashier for them; Dominic looked at him, confused. “Mmffmm?”

 

“What?” Dominic took a bottle of water and shrugged, gesturing to the door; Reyes took the bottle back, irritated. “Thievery is frowned upon over here, Dominic.”

 

Well, actually, it was frowned upon with the rebels too; they wanted to be liberated, not savages, despite their…violent means to their ends. Even as the King, Dominic was reminded several times a day of his bad habits, which included adulterous remarks, theft, littering (which was actually very mild), and most frequently, attacking the smaller Pokémon whenever he became hungry enough, although that was from all of his time spent in the wild and was a hard habit to break. They couldn’t do anything about him overall, him being the King and all, and so doing nothing just made him get worse as a Pokémon, but at least he still wasn’t as bad as the humans.

 

“Mm,” Dominic shrugged; Reyes looked at him a long time before he just gave up—amazingly, that hurt Dominic more than his words. He made a couple extra calls before leading Dominic out of the city, down the path to the Petalburg Woods. He saw the cluster of trees long before they reached it, felt the grass become more unruly beneath his feet, and started to get that memory itch—the bad kind too.

 

I used to be with Lamont here, he thought. Well, he’s a dead man now.

 

“Don’t cause any trouble; the Woods is a revolutionary area,” Reyes warned as they crossed into the trees. Really, now? Dominic thought. The last that he heard, it was still neutral. Wow, he had really been in Mauville a long time…how long exactly? Arceus, what happened to his brain?

 

“Mmffmffmn.”

 

“I can’t understand you, and honestly I don’t care to; your words just ruin my opinion of Pokémonkind.”

 

“Mmff.” Your words hurt my soul, Dominic wanted to say. Well, if I had one. He saw the little Pokémon of the woods like Weedle and Caterpie shy away at the sight of him, and the larger ones like Breloom and Mightyena growl and bristle as they passed by; he started growling too, irritated, and Reyes punched his shoulder.

 

“Be _quiet_ ; if you growl at them then they’ll be perfectly within their rights to attack you.”

 

The one-sidedness of the situation annoyed Dominic, but as Reyes said, it was revolutionaries’ territory, so he had no authority as long as they were in Petalburg Woods; to them, he was another rebel. He felt something small hit his shoulder, then two more, then something that felt like a big rock ricocheted off of his leg, knocking him onto his stomach; he flexed his arms, ripping apart Reyes’ leafs, and pulled the ring from his muzzle, growling and snapping at the culprit Linoone. She darted around his legs lightning-quick and started biting him, slithering up his body and pulling away tufts of his fur and drawing blood; he started jumping around and slamming himself into tree trunks, unable to shake her, and so he waited until she climbed over his shoulder and looked into his eyes before biting his nose.

 

_You made a mistake there, sweetheart._

 

She shrieked in pain and surprise as she fell away from him, landing on the soft grass in a furry heap. She was still screaming as she shook violently, her little claws digging scratches into the dirt and then her own skin as she tried to pull away the nonexistent Ekans. Dominic started laughing, then he shut up when the rest of the forest animals started growling at him too—even the Shroomish. Reyes grabbed his elbow and pulled him along, swearing under his breath the whole time.

 

“I swear, Dominic,” he finally said.

 

“Yeah, yer doing a lot of swearin’ I’ve noticed.” His voice was annoyingly nasal from the blood filling his nostrils; he drew a handkerchief from his mane and cleared it out. “They started the fight and you saw it!”

 

“It didn’t mean you had to retaliate.” At that, Dominic pulled from Reyes’ grip, staggering a little before he stopped at the Woods’ entrance sign.

 

“What, did ya expect me to be the biggah Pokémon? Let it all go? Water under the bridge? It’s not even the fact that they’re revolution’ries; ‘nybody that crosses the King gets what they’re askin’ for.”

 

“It’s ridiculous and I know it,” Reyes argued, “but what can you do? As I’ve said, you’re a rebel in revolutionaries’ territory. More than being a rebel, you’re so easily outnumbered.”

 

“Doesn’t the fact that Alakazam sent a summon mean anythin’?”

 

“Yes, it means that he cares enough about an enemy to come out of his self-imposed meditation.”

 

“Ugugugu… I didn’t ask fer him to give a damn about me; I’m perfectly fine bein’ the only one that gives a damn ‘bout Dominic.”

 

“The point is that he does, for whatever reason,” he said. “And you and I both have to deal with it in our ways.”

 

“I don’t deal; I just kill whatever bothers me.”

 

“Well that won’t work here and especially around me,” Reyes said, raising his fist; Dominic already had a pretty good idea of that rule. “You see, I’ve already lost too many comrades during your guys’ attacks, and so I won’t take losing any now, especially for asinine reasons, King.”

 

“Well that won’t work here and especially around me,” Dominic mimicked. “You see, I had a place to be, but they couldn’t stand me; I had to leave, and next time we met we were on opposite sides of the revolution. You and I, we’ve had different upbringings; I’m guessing you were born in a cozy Pokémon Laboratory under a Professor and coddled in some nursery or incubator until a happy-go-lucky snot-nosed ten-year-old decided to make you his slave for the rest of your life. Some of us weren’t that lucky,” he said dryly. “Some of us grew up without a family, unable to take any love.”

 

“Maybe my upbringing wasn’t nearly as emotional as yours,” Reyes said in a similarly-dry tone, “but these last seven years were adequately soul-crushing. In the beginning, humans were hard to protect; they couldn’t believe that some of us were still good, that some of us were still human inside. We were shot at, burned, frozen, poisoned, attacked, _killed_ ,” he added. “And it took an entire year of it all for them to realize that while you rebels were trying to kill them, us revolutionaries still had hearts.”

 

“I have a heart,” Dominic said, stepping backwards and clenching his claws. “It’s jus’ not as carin’ as yours looks.”

 

“In our…line of work…be it rebel or revolutionary, you can’t afford to care.”

 

“But obviously, you care very much,” Dominic said; Reyes sighed. “And you care about me, too; I know I’m annoying and Pokémon can’t stand me, but you still stayed with me. You really like being a revolutionary that much?”

 

“No, I don’t,” he said with complete honesty. “I could’ve been the leader of the free world, but if it meant being with you, I’d have sooner taken suicide.”

 

“No offense taken.”

 

“But,” he interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest, “it’d be a terrible thing on my conscious to kill a child.”

 

“That’s your only reason?”

 

“Yes, because killing you would also mean putting some use to your body through natural decomposition.”

 

“…Anyway,” Dominic said, annoyed by the conversation, “where’s the person that’s gonna give us a ride?”

 

Reyes looked past him and down the route; at the end of it, to the opposite way of the city, there was a pier and boathouse with a little Flying-type circling it. Reyes put his fingers in his mouth and set out a shrieking whistle; the bird halted and looked at them before flapping over. “Reyes!” the little Wingull said excitedly, plowing into his chest. She smelled like a she.

 

“Hello and good afternoon, Peeko,” Reyes greeted in return, politely pushing her away; all Dominic could think was _Reyes has a fangirl?_

 

“This is the King of the rebels?” She flapped around him excitedly, amazingly annoying for something so tiny. “He looks so nonthreatening…and he’s so young too!”

 

“And what are you, seven?” Dominic snorted.

 

“Where’s Mr. Briney?” Reyes asked; Peeko calmed down, landing on his outstretched arm.

 

“He’s on a little trip to see some family,” she answered. “Why?”

 

“We needed him to give us a ride to Slateport.”

 

“Oh, you can just use his boat! He knows you already, so it’s fine!”

 

“Really? I’d hate to borrow his property like that; his boat is his life…”

 

“He trusts you,” Peeko said. “But the King…”

 

“You can trust me to keep an eye on the King,” Reyes said. “He wouldn’t wreck Mr. Briney’s boat unless it actually spoke to him.”

 

“Ouch, jeez, my soul,” Dominic said. “Ugugu…”

 

“It should only take until evening, then I’ll find a revolutionary to return it,” Reyes told Peeko.

 

“No problem!” Peeko led them to Mr. Briney’s boat, a small thing painted white and run by a shiny-looking motor that could seat four. Reyes tossed his backpack at Dominic, who caught it with a grimace, and dropped onto the bench in front of the motor, starting it with a low buzz. Dominic groaned as he slid on the other bench, and Peeko waved a wing at them as they started across the water. He leaned over the bow, amazed at the crystal blue color of it all and by how far it seemed to stretch; more so, the Water-types that skipped and jumped and swam through it, the Magikarp and Goldeen and Feebas just within reach of his claws, and the Swellow and Swablu and Noctowl that soared over the water’s surface.

 

“Cool,” he breathed, dipping his claws in the water; it was cold but not uncomfortably so, and it sliced around his claws to form glittering facets of foam. He felt like he hadn’t seen it in a long time, and maybe he hadn’t. “So cool…”

 

“Lilly.”

 

“What?” he asked, looking back at Reyes; he was holding the steering mechanism with both hands, his head and eyes facing the water.

 

“You said that with all the questions I’ve asked you, I’ve never told you anything about myself, and so I’m telling you that I have a mate named Lilly.”

 

“Oh, wow.” A mate? Him? Dominic thought. This guy might really be Romeo. “She a Sceptile too?”

 

He shook his head. “She’s a Lapras, the most beautiful one to ever grace Hoenn’s waters.”

 

“You two crazy lovers had kids?”

 

“…A daughter,” he answered after an unusual pause. “She was beautiful like her mother, but much too smart, like me; it made her so hard to keep an eye on, but she was my life.”

 

Dominic finally realized what was wrong with his story. “Was?”

 

“She died two years ago.”

 

“Huh. Well.” Dominic rested his head on the ship’s edge, swirling his claws around in the water. It suddenly didn’t seem so cool and blue. “And your mate?”

 

“I’ve no idea what became of her, really.” Still, he was looking at the water.

 

“Hmm.” He didn’t know what it was like to have a family; moreover, Reyes had a loving family, from the sound of it, and Dominic hadn’t been loved in a long time, so he couldn’t relate. He let his claws hover in the water until a small Magikarp swam around them, intrigued; he waited until it bit down before raising his arm, pulling it from the water and dropping it inside of the boat.

 

“Put it back,” Reyes said almost immediately, still not looking.

 

“Arceus, how did you see that?”

 

“I can sense your idiocy now.” Dominic snorted through his nose as he kicked the Magikarp away; it fell back into the water with a loud _plunk_.

 

“How come you’re not looking for her?”

 

“Because even when we were together, I was a revolutionary; she knows that my job is to protect the people and the Pokémon, but also that not a day goes by that I don’t think about her and how much I love her.” He closed his eyes wistfully for a moment before sighing again. “But you don’t understand all of that, do you?”

 

“No, I really don’t, but…”

 

“But what?”

 

Dominic leaned his back against the stern, looking back at Reyes. “I’m startin’ to, at least.” They were silent as the boat buzzed along; Dominic watched the sun move across the sky, feeling his energy level increase fractionally as it began to set. “How much farther?”

 

“Look,” Reyes said instead; Dominic tore his eyes away from the sky and saw a large waterside city looming on the horizon. He’d never seen Slateport before but he heard of its bustling market, and even from his distance he could smell the people over there—Arceus, people. “Get off of the edge,” Reyes warned as Dominic leaned over the front; he pulled away as Reyes slowed to a stop at one of the empty piers. There were about fifteen other piers with medium and large trading ships parked there. Reyes shut off the motor and tied the boat to one of the pier’s stumps as Dominic walked onto the sand, getting the curious feeling of it sinking under his toes like warm mud and blow into his fur; he dropped onto his stomach and started digging through it, coming up with a handful of old Clamperl and Shellder shells that glittered iridescently from the seawater.

 

“This is so cool,” he exhaled, saving them within his mane; Reyes looked on curiously.

 

“You keep everything in your hair?”

 

“Not everything, just amazing things.” He looked on and saw, further down the sand, beachgoers with their colorful blankets and umbrellas and little children and little Pokémon. He started bristling, irritated by the humans’ presence, and Reyes put a hand on his shoulder.

 

“We have to keep moving, Dominic.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, following Reyes past the people and their Pokémon. At one point, a Frisbee collided with his head before falling to the ground; he picked it up and saw a little auburn-haired girl and her Mudkip run up to him, all smiles and rainbows and sugar candy and ice cream stains.

 

“Fwisbee?” she asked, sticking her hands out; Dominic looked at Reyes, perplexed, and he told him to return it. Dominic passed it back to her and she gave him a lopsided smile before taking off with her Mudkip.

 

“Why wasn’t she scared of me?” Dominic asked Reyes.

 

“Little children can’t really understand what they see on the news,” he replied.

 

“How come they don’t understand? Are humans really that stupid?”

 

“Human children are different from hatchlings and cubs, Dominic.”

 

“Stupider, apparently.” Dominic passed by the stupid humans to the tiled steps leading up to the paved ground of Slateport; there, he was assaulted by a barrage of sights and sounds and smells. The marketplace was filled with booths of all colors and kinds selling everything imaginable; he could smell chocolate and fried fish and sushi and silk and fake gold and sweet potato stew and grass whistles and backscratchers and cheap cellphones and even awesomeness if that was possible. His ears fell flat against his head and he was stone still for the better part of three seconds.

 

“Dominic, don’t even—”

 

He took off, dropping onto all fours to sniff a batch of flowers originating from a Floaroma Town booth and then snatching Barboach from a barbecue grill and then chewing on some sugar cane and then tearing up a cluster of fancy hand-woven dresses hanging on racks and skidding around the legs of excited tourists and digging up old buried treasures and stealing Revival Herbs and—

 

“Lassie, calm down already,” Reyes snapped, grabbing Dominic’s ponytail and pulling him back; he was sweating and breathless from trying to keep up with him. “Arceus, do you have an off switch?”

 

“No!” he whined, stretching his claws wistfully. “I wanna explore some more…”

 

“I think you’ve had enough for the day,” he argued, gesturing to the mess he made of the booths; vendors were collecting or trashing their wares and tourists were in heaps on the ground. “Arceus, you’re like a tornado. What kind of creature made you?”

 

“A nice one,” Dominic answered. “A cool one. Like me.”

 

“In what universe are you nice?”

 

“Mines!”

 

“Figures,” he snorted through his nose, pulling Dominic away from the market and to the boating museum; he checked his PokéNav and sighed in relief. “There should be a boat coming within the hour; can you not destroy anything until then?”

 

“Gee, that’s a lot to ask.” Dominic started sniffing the air again, turning to the water. “The sea smells real salty.”

 

“Really?” Reyes said dryly. “And I hate to leave you alone, but I have to help those vendors clean up, and I don’t think you’d be quite welcome.” But Dominic wasn’t listening; he padded over to the pier, smelling the water closely.

 

“Ugugu…” Honestly, it was starting to give him a headache. He dropped to his stomach, feeling the pier’s damp wood grate against his belly as he let his arm hang over the edge. He still wanted to explore…jeez, Reyes was such a stiff-necked bastard. “Seriously, if I want to have fun, why would he stop me?” he said, rolling onto his back. “Reyes isn’t my daddy; if he was, he’d have been de…” He got to his feet and started creeping around the boat museum. He noticed three workers and a Machamp carrying an big old boat’s skeleton inside, swearing and struggling at its weight; the hull was mostly skinned, but it was made of rusted iron and had a name printed on the side that was faded with age, but it seemed familiar.

 

“Al…Alas…” He couldn’t read English very well, but he had a feeling that he remembered it. “A list… A… Ali Stuart—Boat Ali Stuart.” Ali Stuart’s boat? Who was that again? Arceus, his time in Mauville really messed with his—

 

…

 

He looked back at the marketplace, which was getting back into its earlier swing, and clenched his claws. Damn humans; why did he have to let them be? Pokémon were doing just fine before them and would do even better without them. “The King doesn’t need them,” he realized, cupping his claws around his mouth before releasing a powerful Flamethrower; the flames lit the booths like dry wheat struck by lightning, sending the pitiful humans scattering and the Water-types running.

 

“Dominic!” He could literally smell Reyes coming, all grassy meadow and anger and disappointment, and he was tired of Reyes too, all pro-human and pro-life and pro-pro-pro—damn him and his pro-ness. His fur started bristling, and when Reyes came within distance he lashed out and sliced his right arm away; it fell to the ground like a twig, chlorophyll dripping from the wound he left.

 

“The King,” he snapped, shaking his claws clean. “I am _the King_ ; I don’t care about anybody other than myself.”

 

Reyes opened his pods to the sunlight, taking his arm up and pressing it to his stump; vines grew from the point of contact like stitches, linking it together. He didn’t open his mouth once, but his eyes spoke volumes; behind him, the market was still burning, the blaze getting bigger despite the Pokémon trying to put it out, people burning too. Sometimes, illusions were ten times more powerful than the real thing, because as long as the mind believed it, then it was real, which even meant real death, and sometimes that fake real death was better than the fakeness of reality.


	5. 1.4.1. Dominic, Part I

The water was like something from Hell, black and broiling and looking to drag anyone and everyone to an eternal death; it slapped and slammed against Ali’s boat, tossing it from side to side and knocking away cargo each time—soon enough, there would be bodies instead of just boxes, and Michaela knew it, huddling protectively around her cub as Ali paced around in the cabin, hands working his long brown hair into a frenzy. Eventually he went out, slamming the door shut behind him. Michaela stood up, peering through the cabin’s porthole. The storm was unrelenting, still battering the ship so badly she could almost see it coming apart; it wouldn’t be long before it completely shattered.

 

“Oh, Rex,” she murmured to her cub, who was tossing and turning in his bed; the sounds outside were making him uncomfortable, and for good reason too. She went over to him and nuzzled his cheek with her nose; he mewled softly and calmed, sleeping more peacefully. She rested her claws on his forehead and just stayed with him for a few moments, reveling in the soft but persistent sound of his heartbeat, but was instantly on-edge as she heard a loud crack coming from the stern; she went to the door and peered through the window, finding Ali stumbling backwards from someone or something that wasn’t there before. She wanted to go help him—he _was_ her owner, the one who raised her and Dominic from cubs—but her son—

 

“Agh!” Ali stumbled away, shocked, as his pained scream filled the air; not even a second later, the ship screamed as it was split right down the middle. The cabin’s walls tore away as the ship’s innards became visible; Ali’s furniture and cargo dropped into the deadly sea as the two halves came apart, the world around them it seemed falling to pieces. Michaela clung to Rex for dear life; it didn’t matter at that point if she survived, he just had to, she prayed to Arceus. She felt the wood beneath her claws crumble, then she too fell into the water.

 

It was cold—ice-cold actually, despite how much like lava it appeared to be—and it froze her limbs on contact; it was all she could do to secure Rex inside of her mane, keeping him warm and mostly dry, and use a piece of driftwood to keep afloat. She saw Ali swishing to and fro from within a lifeboat and started paddling towards him; he saw her and tried throwing a rope to her, but the water swallowed it almost immediately. She kicked harder, but the water only seemed to become more furious in response; for every foot forward she moved, it threw her back three. “Michaela! Rex!” he shouted over the sounds of the storm. She opened her mouth to speak, then her ears pricked up as she detected a different sound, one that was very close; she raised her head and looked over just as the tsunami crashed down on them.

 

The water pulled both of them under in a heartbeat, shredding the remains of Ali’s boat and lifeboat and separating them. Terrified, Michaela gripped Rex in her arms, keeping him against her chest, but she could see that he was losing consciousness from lack of oxygen; she forced him to meet her eyes and created an illusion that he was lying in a meadow on the sunny day—as long as his brain had that image, he wouldn’t asphyxiate. She herself held her breath as she pushed to the surface, but almost immediately another wave smashed her back under, addling her mind. She searched for any sort of help but all of the Water-types were gone, leaving her and Rex alone; she prayed to Arceus again that he would live, even if she didn’t, and swam up again, only to have her lungs filled with saltwater and slam against a metal plate from the boat. Disoriented, she lost her grip on Rex, and the next wave sliced between them like a knife, pulling them apart.

 

——————

 

Rex felt like a sopping mess; moreover, he couldn’t breathe since his lungs were filled with something other than air. He coughed, then he coughed some more, then he started coughing real hard, rolling onto his back in front of the fire—

 

—fire?

 

He wiped his eyes before cracking them open; he was lying in front of a brick fireplace, a fluffy pink towel draped over his fur. He sniffed the area; he couldn’t smell any danger, just a lot of dirt and rocks. He coughed some more before crawling free, looking around; he was in someone’s house, not like that guy’s boat but a real house-house. There were framed photos and chairs and tables and the smell of delicious amazing wondrous food was in the air—and it wasn’t fish! He raised his head, amazed, which was when he noticed a giant Steel Pokémon staring down at him.

 

“Agaah!” he screamed, terrified as he scrambled to the collection of logs for the fireplace, hiding beneath them; tears built in his eyes as he tried to make himself as small as possible.

 

“Aggron, don’t scare him,” a male voice said as the logs parted; Rex skittered to the corner instead, burying his face in his neck fur. A human man came over and picked him up; Rex growled and kicked at him, ripping his sleeves with his little claws. “He’s just a cub…” the man continued thoughtfully. He set Rex down on the table, touching behind his ear gently; the gesture calmed him somewhat and he sat down, physically and mentally exhausted. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly. “I found you on the shore, you and…a female Zoroark.” Rex’s ears went up; the man was talking about Michaela, he was sure. “Skarmory, keep an eye on him,” he said to someone else before going into another room.

 

“Alright, Steven,” that person replied. Rex looked over and saw a Skarmory standing by the door preening his silver feathers; he yelped, alarmed, and stared sorrowfully at the long drop from the table to the ground. “Oh, calm down,” he chastised. “Babies.”

 

“You were once a child too, Skarmory; you ought to have more patience for them,” Aggron said in his rough and grating voice.

 

“Well I don’t; I don’t think he even understands what we’re saying.” Aggron reached out towards Rex; he moved away, bristling and trying to make himself look bigger. “He was probably still nursing, Aggron.”

 

“He’s not _that_ young, but he _is_ defenseless.”

 

“And how did a Zorua end up in Hoenn anyway?”

 

“No idea… Steven said that there was boat shrapnel around them, so maybe they were on a ride and that storm hit them, but for whatever reason, he’s alone now.”

 

Steven returned with a small cup of warmed soup, placing it on the table with Rex; he shied away from it at first, then his hunger prevailed and he shoved his nose in, drinking excitedly. While he did so, a Claydol drifted through the door. “Did you bury her?” Steven asked it; it nodded in response. He sighed, watching Rex finish the soup and roll on his side; Steven rubbed his knuckles against Rex’s cheek and he mewed softly. “It’s sad; he’s only a cub and he’s already lost his family. Person or Pokémon, nobody should have to live like that.”

 

“He’s right,” Aggron said to Skarmory, who scowled and rolled his eyes.

 

“Don’t tell me Steven’s going to take in the fur-ball; we’re already at capacity here with all of his rocks!”

 

“Don’t be so mean, Skarmory.”

 

“I’m not mean, I’m logical. What’s he good for anyway? He’s a cub; it’ll take at least five years for him to be battle-ready.”

 

“Not everything is about battling,” Aggron said, scratching Rex’s stomach with an odd type of gentleness contrasting his appearance; his claws tickled somewhat, and Rex giggled. “Don’t tell me you don’t find him a _little_ cute.”

 

“For a Steel-type, you’re a damn softie,” he snorted, fluffing his feathers in irritation; Aggron smirked, picking Rex up gently to hold him to Skarmory’s face. “Ugh, move him; he smells like ew,” he complained, backing away.

 

“Skarmory,” he urged with a growing grin; Skarmory grunted, annoyed, and gave Rex a little nudge in the stomach with his beak. Astounded, Rex held Skarmory’s beak with his little paws and gave him a lick; Aggron and Steven laughed as Skarmory pulled away, embarrassed. “He likes you.”

 

“Like I care,” he muttered, touching his beak in silent awe. Steven took Rex from Aggron’s grip and set him down on a small makeshift bed made of a fluffy pillow and a large wicker basket; he picked at it with his claws until it was marred with streaks and the feathers were everywhere, then he curled up on it, tired.

 

“Come on, I think he’s had enough excitement for the day,” Steven laughed a little, returning his Pokémon before going into another room. Meanwhile, Rex began to dream…

 

——————

 

While Ali stood in the hallway speaking with Nurse Joy, the two Zoroark remained in the examination room; Dominic was working trenches into the blue and green-speckled tiles, he was pacing so furiously, and Michaela was getting sick of it. “Oh, would you stop already? You’re making me dizzy.”

 

“Oh!” he gasped, coming to an immediate stop and turning to her. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t—I don’t know how it would effect—Arceus, I wish I still had instincts—Ela, I—oh Arceus oh Arceus—”

 

“Now you’re making my ears dizzy,” she sighed; Dominic groaned, his ears falling.

 

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it! This is—this is a surprise, to say the least.”

 

“It shouldn’t be, you beast,” she said with a coy smirk, causing him to look away, embarrassed.

 

“I wish you weren’t so blunt, Ela.”

 

“I wish you weren’t so prude, Dom.” She slid off of the examination table and grasped his forearms, licking his cheek. “You’re going to be a Daddy.”

 

“And you’ll be a Momma.” He pressed his nose to hers, a giddy smile on his face. “Gee, I wonder if he’s gonna be like me.”

 

“Then he’d be a total pain,” she teased. “And why a boy? Why can’t our cub be a girl?”

 

“Oh,” he groaned softly. “Because then she would be like you, so beautiful and so perfect, and there’d be hell to pay during mating season.”

 

“No worries; you’ll scare every potential mate away.”

 

“Damn right.”

 

“You’re so cute,” she laughed, biting his ear softly; he wrapped his arms around her in response, nuzzling her neck.

 

“Arceus, what will we name him? Alex? Franklin? Trevor? Oh, oh, what about Dominic Jr.?” She laughed.

 

“Jessica? Marisol? Hadley?”

 

“Those are weird boy names.”

 

“I told you, Dom, it could be a girl too.”

 

“I wanna boy…”

 

“Don’t worry; if it’s a girl, we just try again,” she smirked; his face instantly lit up, then a devilish grin crossed it. Ali and Nurse Joy came back in at that moment.

 

“They’re so cute together,” Nurse Joy smiled.

 

“Yeah, unless you have to clean up after them,” Ali grumbled; Dominic grinned at him.

 

“Ali,” she said seriously, catching his attention, “most Pokémon-owners don’t keep more  than two; if you want to give the cub for adoption, I have some suggest—” Dominic cut her off, growling and snarling with his fur bristling.

 

“Dom—” Michaela tried, but he wouldn’t stop.

 

“I don’t think Dominic would like that,” Ali said, scratching his head. “I’ll keep their cub; I don’t have any problem with another Zoroark in the house.” Dominic’s mood did an instant one-eighty.

 

“This will be great!” he continued excitedly; Michaela laughed, even more elated as she held her stomach.

 

——————

 

“Aggron, take the brat,” Skarmory grumbled as Rex pawed his talons; every time he moved away Rex followed him, putting little scratches in his steel exterior.

 

“I don’t believe I’ll be surprised if you’re still stag in the coming future,” Metagross commented, planting itself in the grass to watch Steven battle a pair of newbie Trainers. The park was expansive but quiet considering that the rest of the Elite Four were in the city doing a presentation on becoming a Trainer, so Steven and his Pokémon were practically alone with all of the green grass and trees and the little blue pond.

 

“Shut up; nobody asked for your input.” Skarmory kicked Rex away, not hard at all but forcefully enough that he flopped onto his back into a mud puddle; Rex immediately began whining loudly, licking his fur in exasperation.

 

“He’s still a cub, Skarmory,” Aggron sighed, picking Rex up and placing him on his large head; Rex touched his horns, amazed, and barked excitedly. “Why don’t you take him for a fly?”

 

“ _Me?_ ” he squawked, appalled. “Do I look like an airplane to you?”

 

“Steven still hasn’t gotten rid of him after a week, so assume that he’s here to stay and you’ll be Daddy Skarmory for a long while to come.” He picked up Rex and set him on Skarmory’s back. “That also makes you an airplane.”

 

“But—”

 

“Come on, Skarmory,” Metagross urged; Skarmory groaned, pecking at his feathers.

 

“D…Daddy!” Rex barked; Skarmory grimaced.

 

“I’m not your dad!”

 

“Aw, he talked,” Aggron laughed.

 

“And he thinks Skarmory’s his dad,” Metagross guffawed, it and Aggron sharing a good laugh at Skarmory’s expense.

 

“Shut up, both of you!” he snapped, flaring his wings angrily; forgetting that Rex was on his back, he took off, going straight up into the sky. Rex’s claws weren’t strong enough to keep a grip, and he tumbled off of Skarmory’s back and started freewheeling through the air; Aggron and Metagross looked at each other before Aggron raced forward, Metagross attempting to grab him psychically.

 

“He’s a Dark-type; I can’t get a hold!” he shouted.

 

“I’m not fast enough!” Aggron yelled as Rex grew closer to the ground; from his angle of descent, he was going to hit the pavement near the playground. Skarmory wheeled around and, spotting Rex, folded his wings back for a dive, but even he wouldn’t be fast enough. Steven ended his battle and shook the children’s hands, turning in time to see Rex’s little body collide with the pavement. He and his Pokémon raced over, finding him shrouded in a small bubble of coiling black energy like dark fire; when that faded, his left hind leg was sticking out at a strange angle and a pool of bright red blood was steadily building beneath him.

 

——————

 

“Michaela…” Ali said as a small whine filled the room. Michaela raised her head tiredly as he laid her cub next to her; she smiled and rolled over, allowing him to stumble the three inches to her on his little paws to nurse. “Where’s Dominic?” She shrugged a shoulder; he looked worriedly out of the window where a heavy storm had formed in Lilycove, thunder slamming down to rock buildings to their core and lightning skipping over the ocean’s surface. “Oh, no,” he said with a swear before grabbing his poncho and umbrella and racing through the door, slamming it behind him; Michaela stared after him worriedly.

 

“Dominic,” she whispered, lowering her head to the wooden floor and letting a silent tear run down her face. As much as she wanted to look for Dominic as well, even though his scent would easily have been lost in the rain, she couldn’t; her newborn baby— _their_ newborn baby was there and needed her attention. Thinking about him, he’d just get mad if she left him alone anyway; she smiled sadly with that thought, licking her cub’s cheek. “You’re a _he_ ,” she said to him, nuzzling him with her nose. “Daddy will be proud to see you; if only I could think of a name…”

 

Ali returned a while later; the digital clock was out of sorts from a power surge, but it felt like hours had passed. Dejected, he dropped the umbrella and poncho next to the doormat, kicking his rain boots aside and slumping down on the couch, head in his hands. From his soundless gestures, Michaela understood perfectly what had happened. “I’m sorry, Michaela,” he said to her, sadness making his voice rough. “The neighbors said they saw him out on the shore; I guess he was trying to catch fish for you two to eat, instincts maybe. No matter how much they called him, he wouldn’t come back in until he caught something, and you know how terrible his hunting skills are; he would’ve been out there all day, except… There were a lot of wild Pokémon out there, and it looked like the lightning and thunder…drove them crazy, although nobody has any idea why. They found him, Dominic, and they…” His voice crackled a little as thunder rumbled very close by, finishing his sentence for him.

 

“Dominic…” she said mournfully, her tears flowing freely into her fur; she held her cub close, the living remnant of Dominic, and licked his face. He just wiggled his nose, not really understanding, and she wished that she could enjoy his painlessness too, but she couldn’t; Dominic was gone and it would always hurt, not just for her but for everybody that knew him. She felt a little tickle and realized that her cub was licking her tears; she let out a small laugh, releasing him and staring back into his wide blue eyes. “I’m okay,” she said to him. “I’m okay…”

 

Ali stood up, surreptitiously wiping his eyes on his coat’s sleeve before turning to her, lifting her cub to examine him. “Rex,” he decided. “If that’s alright with you.” It was alright with Michaela, and her cub stuck his little tongue out at Ali. He was adorable, and Michaela just hoped that he could live long enough to know how amazing he was.

 

——————

 

“Have you seen Skarmory?” Metagross asked Aggron; Steven was using Claydol and Cradily to battle a rookie Trainer a few feet away. Rex was quietly playing in the children’s sandbox, making little mountains and houses out of rocks before knocking them down; bandages still ringed his head and leg since his stitches still tended to bleed every now and again, but otherwise he was pretty fine. He had been quiet since then, quiet but thoughtful, and since then Skarmory had been making a better effort to befriend him.

 

“No, not since morning,” Aggron answered, keeping an eye on Rex; he yawned and started kicking his houses over, stepping on his mountains and crushing them. “Why would you do that?”

 

“No home,” he proclaimed, keeping his eyes on the ground. “No home.”

 

“What does that mean?” Metagross asked; Aggron just shrugged. “I don’t understand why he’s been so peculiar since then; Nurse Joy said that he hadn’t sustained any brain damage.”

 

“Maybe it’s got nothing to do with his brain, I don’t know; maybe he just started thinking.”

 

“About what? He’s three years old.”

 

“He’s smart for a three-year-old; you know that, Metagross.” Metagross just looked towards Steven, watching him command his team as he had been doing for a long time before Rex and not that long after. Rex started whining, squeezing his eyes shut in pain; Aggron tried to lift him but he refused to be touched, running away to the swings’ set. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Water,” he complained, covering his eyes with his paws; Aggron looked up and took note of the dark storm clouds gathering above them.

 

“He’s right; it’s about to rain.”

 

“Isn’t Skarmory still out there?” Metagross asked.

 

“He’ll be fine; he won’t rust from a little rain.” Aggron looked up again as a drop of rain fell on his nose, then several more joined it; Steven looked up and warned the Trainer to go home before returning Cradily and Claydol.

 

“Where’s Skarmory?” he asked, running over to them; Aggron and Metagross shrugged. “What about—oh, there.” He picked Rex up and he immediately began barking and growling, clawing at Steven’s shirt and arms. “What’s wrong? Maybe I should take him back to the Pokémon Center…”

 

He didn’t have time to consider it however, as the rain immediately began pouring, lightning flashing in the sky and thunder rolling nearby; the sights and sounds made Rex sick to his stomach, although he couldn’t tell why. Steven returned Aggron and Metagross and bundled Rex in his coat so he could run down the sidewalk, headed back to his house; it wasn’t that long of a travel at all, but the rain made the ground slippery and reduced visibility to nearly zero. Somehow, he made it back, slamming the door shut behind him and set Rex down on the table, his fur soaked through and hanging on him like a weight; he sighed as he turned the heat up and went to the bathroom to change. Rex whined softly as he shook his fur dry, then he tried to settle again, tired; a peck on the window stirred him, then Steven’s rapid footsteps as he went to open the latch.

 

“Skarmory,” he said, confused. Skarmory flew through the window and landed on the ground, completely drenched and with a piece of paper in his beak; he set it down next to Rex before sitting next to the fireplace. Steven picked it up and unfolded it, staring at it with an odd expression. “This is…him?” he asked, setting the paper down; Skarmory nodded. “Where did you find this?” Skarmory turned in the direction of the beach; Steven raised his eyebrows. “You looked through the wreckage to find this for him? Really?”

 

“I’m making an effort,” Skarmory muttered even though Steven couldn’t understand him. Rex looked over at the paper; it was a photograph of two baby Zorua, one male and one female (although Steven surely couldn’t tell the difference), and they were rolling on the dirt wrestling each other. A man’s legs were in the background, and with the person holding the camera that meant two—two humans. He started sniffing the photo but Steven picked it up, inspecting the back of it.

 

“‘Dad, I’m sorry that I couldn’t become a Trainer like you, but I’m happier just being with Pokémon than battling with them—maybe I’ll be breeder or something, I dunno.’” He was reading the writing on the back, writing that smelled sort of familiar. “‘But I have two Zorua now; the female’s from a nursery—I named her after Mom, Arceus rest her soul—and the male is a stray. He’s wild and funny and cunning and really the perfect match for little Michaela; maybe they’ll pair up someday, who knows. I’ve named him Dominic. —Ali.’” Steven looked once more at Rex before setting the photograph on the fireplace’s mantle.

 

“I guess that makes you Dominic,” he said.

 

“Dominic,” he repeated quietly. “Dominic…”


	6. 1.4.2. Dominic, Part II

The water was like something from Hell, black and broiling and looking to drag anyone and everyone to an eternal death; it slapped and slammed against Ali’s boat, tossing it from side to side and knocking away cargo each time—soon enough, there would be bodies instead of just boxes, and Michaela knew it, huddling protectively around her cub as Ali paced around in the cabin, hands working his long brown hair into a frenzy. Eventually he went out, slamming the door shut behind him. Michaela stood up, peering through the cabin’s porthole. The storm was unrelenting, still battering the ship so badly she could almost see it coming apart; it wouldn’t be long before it completely shattered.

 

“Oh, Rex,” she murmured to her cub, who was tossing and turning in his bed; the sounds outside were making him uncomfortable, and for good reason too. She went over to him and nuzzled his cheek with her nose; he mewled softly and calmed, sleeping more peacefully. She rested her claws on his forehead and just stayed with him for a few moments, reveling in the soft but persistent sound of his heartbeat, but was instantly on-edge as she heard a loud crack coming from the stern; she went to the door and peered through the window, finding Ali stumbling backwards from someone or something that wasn’t there before. She wanted to go help him—he _was_ her owner, the one who raised her and Dominic from cubs—but her son—

 

“Agh!” Ali stumbled away, shocked, as his pained scream filled the air; not even a second later, the ship screamed as it was split right down the middle. The cabin’s walls tore away as the ship’s innards became visible; Ali’s furniture and cargo dropped into the deadly sea as the two halves came apart, the world around them it seemed falling to pieces. Michaela clung to Rex for dear life; it didn’t matter at that point if she survived, he just had to, she prayed to Arceus. She felt the wood beneath her claws crumble, then she too fell into the water.

 

It was cold—ice-cold actually, despite how much like lava it appeared to be—and it froze her limbs on contact; it was all she could do to secure Rex inside of her mane, keeping him warm and mostly dry, and use a piece of driftwood to keep afloat. She saw Ali swishing to and fro from within a lifeboat and started paddling towards him; he saw her and tried throwing a rope to her, but the water swallowed it almost immediately. She kicked harder, but the water only seemed to become more furious in response; for every foot forward she moved, it threw her back three. “Michaela! Rex!” he shouted over the sounds of the storm. She opened her mouth to speak, then her ears pricked up as she detected a different sound, one that was very close; she raised her head and looked over just as the tsunami crashed down on them.

 

The water pulled both of them under in a heartbeat, shredding the remains of Ali’s boat and lifeboat and separating them. Terrified, Michaela gripped Rex in her arms, keeping him against her chest, but she could see that he was losing consciousness from lack of oxygen; she forced him to meet her eyes and created an illusion that he was lying in a meadow on the sunny day—as long as his brain had that image, he wouldn’t asphyxiate. She herself held her breath as she pushed to the surface, but almost immediately another wave smashed her back under, addling her mind. She searched for any sort of help but all of the Water-types were gone, leaving her and Rex alone; she prayed to Arceus again that he would live, even if she didn’t, and swam up again, only to have her lungs filled with saltwater and slam against a metal plate from the boat. Disoriented, she lost her grip on Rex, and the next wave sliced between them like a knife, pulling them apart.

 

——————

 

Rex felt like a sopping mess; moreover, he couldn’t breathe since his lungs were filled with something other than air. He coughed, then he coughed some more, then he started coughing real hard, rolling onto his back in front of the fire—

 

—fire?

 

He wiped his eyes before cracking them open; he was lying in front of a brick fireplace, a fluffy pink towel draped over his fur. He sniffed the area; he couldn’t smell any danger, just a lot of dirt and rocks. He coughed some more before crawling free, looking around; he was in someone’s house, not like that guy’s boat but a real house-house. There were framed photos and chairs and tables and the smell of delicious amazing wondrous food was in the air—and it wasn’t fish! He raised his head, amazed, which was when he noticed a giant Steel Pokémon staring down at him.

 

“Agaah!” he screamed, terrified as he scrambled to the collection of logs for the fireplace, hiding beneath them; tears built in his eyes as he tried to make himself as small as possible.

 

“Aggron, don’t scare him,” a male voice said as the logs parted; Rex skittered to the corner instead, burying his face in his neck fur. A human man came over and picked him up; Rex growled and kicked at him, ripping his sleeves with his little claws. “He’s just a cub…” the man continued thoughtfully. He set Rex down on the table, touching behind his ear gently; the gesture calmed him somewhat and he sat down, physically and mentally exhausted. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly. “I found you on the shore, you and…a female Zoroark.” Rex’s ears went up; the man was talking about Michaela, he was sure. “Skarmory, keep an eye on him,” he said to someone else before going into another room.

 

“Alright, Steven,” that person replied. Rex looked over and saw a Skarmory standing by the door preening his silver feathers; he yelped, alarmed, and stared sorrowfully at the long drop from the table to the ground. “Oh, calm down,” he chastised. “Babies.”

 

“You were once a child too, Skarmory; you ought to have more patience for them,” Aggron said in his rough and grating voice.

 

“Well I don’t; I don’t think he even understands what we’re saying.” Aggron reached out towards Rex; he moved away, bristling and trying to make himself look bigger. “He was probably still nursing, Aggron.”

 

“He’s not _that_ young, but he _is_ defenseless.”

 

“And how did a Zorua end up in Hoenn anyway?”

 

“No idea… Steven said that there was boat shrapnel around them, so maybe they were on a ride and that storm hit them, but for whatever reason, he’s alone now.”

 

Steven returned with a small cup of warmed soup, placing it on the table with Rex; he shied away from it at first, then his hunger prevailed and he shoved his nose in, drinking excitedly. While he did so, a Claydol drifted through the door. “Did you bury her?” Steven asked it; it nodded in response. He sighed, watching Rex finish the soup and roll on his side; Steven rubbed his knuckles against Rex’s cheek and he mewed softly. “It’s sad; he’s only a cub and he’s already lost his family. Person or Pokémon, nobody should have to live like that.”

 

“He’s right,” Aggron said to Skarmory, who scowled and rolled his eyes.

 

“Don’t tell me Steven’s going to take in the fur-ball; we’re already at capacity here with all of his rocks!”

 

“Don’t be so mean, Skarmory.”

 

“I’m not mean, I’m logical. What’s he good for anyway? He’s a cub; it’ll take at least five years for him to be battle-ready.”

 

“Not everything is about battling,” Aggron said, scratching Rex’s stomach with an odd type of gentleness contrasting his appearance; his claws tickled somewhat, and Rex giggled. “Don’t tell me you don’t find him a _little_ cute.”

 

“For a Steel-type, you’re a damn softie,” he snorted, fluffing his feathers in irritation; Aggron smirked, picking Rex up gently to hold him to Skarmory’s face. “Ugh, move him; he smells like ew,” he complained, backing away.

 

“Skarmory,” he urged with a growing grin; Skarmory grunted, annoyed, and gave Rex a little nudge in the stomach with his beak. Astounded, Rex held Skarmory’s beak with his little paws and gave him a lick; Aggron and Steven laughed as Skarmory pulled away, embarrassed. “He likes you.”

 

“Like I care,” he muttered, touching his beak in silent awe. Steven took Rex from Aggron’s grip and set him down on a small makeshift bed made of a fluffy pillow and a large wicker basket; he picked at it with his claws until it was marred with streaks and the feathers were everywhere, then he curled up on it, tired.

 

“Come on, I think he’s had enough excitement for the day,” Steven laughed a little, returning his Pokémon before going into another room. Meanwhile, Rex began to dream…

 

——————

 

While Ali stood in the hallway speaking with Nurse Joy, the two Zoroark remained in the examination room; Dominic was working trenches into the blue and green-speckled tiles, he was pacing so furiously, and Michaela was getting sick of it. “Oh, would you stop already? You’re making me dizzy.”

 

“Oh!” he gasped, coming to an immediate stop and turning to her. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t—I don’t know how it would effect—Arceus, I wish I still had instincts—Ela, I—oh Arceus oh Arceus—”

 

“Now you’re making my ears dizzy,” she sighed; Dominic groaned, his ears falling.

 

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it! This is—this is a surprise, to say the least.”

 

“It shouldn’t be, you beast,” she said with a coy smirk, causing him to look away, embarrassed.

 

“I wish you weren’t so blunt, Ela.”

 

“I wish you weren’t so prude, Dom.” She slid off of the examination table and grasped his forearms, licking his cheek. “You’re going to be a Daddy.”

 

“And you’ll be a Momma.” He pressed his nose to hers, a giddy smile on his face. “Gee, I wonder if he’s gonna be like me.”

 

“Then he’d be a total pain,” she teased. “And why a boy? Why can’t our cub be a girl?”

 

“Oh,” he groaned softly. “Because then she would be like you, so beautiful and so perfect, and there’d be hell to pay during mating season.”

 

“No worries; you’ll scare every potential mate away.”

 

“Damn right.”

 

“You’re so cute,” she laughed, biting his ear softly; he wrapped his arms around her in response, nuzzling her neck.

 

“Arceus, what will we name him? Alex? Franklin? Trevor? Oh, oh, what about Dominic Jr.?” She laughed.

 

“Jessica? Marisol? Hadley?”

 

“Those are weird boy names.”

 

“I told you, Dom, it could be a girl too.”

 

“I wanna boy…”

 

“Don’t worry; if it’s a girl, we just try again,” she smirked; his face instantly lit up, then a devilish grin crossed it. Ali and Nurse Joy came back in at that moment.

 

“They’re so cute together,” Nurse Joy smiled.

 

“Yeah, unless you have to clean up after them,” Ali grumbled; Dominic grinned at him.

 

“Ali,” she said seriously, catching his attention, “most Pokémon-owners don’t keep more  than two; if you want to give the cub for adoption, I have some suggest—” Dominic cut her off, growling and snarling with his fur bristling.

 

“Dom—” Michaela tried, but he wouldn’t stop.

 

“I don’t think Dominic would like that,” Ali said, scratching his head. “I’ll keep their cub; I don’t have any problem with another Zoroark in the house.” Dominic’s mood did an instant one-eighty.

 

“This will be great!” he continued excitedly; Michaela laughed, even more elated as she held her stomach.

 

——————

 

“Aggron, take the brat,” Skarmory grumbled as Rex pawed his talons; every time he moved away Rex followed him, putting little scratches in his steel exterior.

 

“I don’t believe I’ll be surprised if you’re still stag in the coming future,” Metagross commented, planting itself in the grass to watch Steven battle a pair of newbie Trainers. The park was expansive but quiet considering that the rest of the Elite Four were in the city doing a presentation on becoming a Trainer, so Steven and his Pokémon were practically alone with all of the green grass and trees and the little blue pond.

 

“Shut up; nobody asked for your input.” Skarmory kicked Rex away, not hard at all but forcefully enough that he flopped onto his back into a mud puddle; Rex immediately began whining loudly, licking his fur in exasperation.

 

“He’s still a cub, Skarmory,” Aggron sighed, picking Rex up and placing him on his large head; Rex touched his horns, amazed, and barked excitedly. “Why don’t you take him for a fly?”

 

“ _Me?_ ” he squawked, appalled. “Do I look like an airplane to you?”

 

“Steven still hasn’t gotten rid of him after a week, so assume that he’s here to stay and you’ll be Daddy Skarmory for a long while to come.” He picked up Rex and set him on Skarmory’s back. “That also makes you an airplane.”

 

“But—”

 

“Come on, Skarmory,” Metagross urged; Skarmory groaned, pecking at his feathers.

 

“D…Daddy!” Rex barked; Skarmory grimaced.

 

“I’m not your dad!”

 

“Aw, he talked,” Aggron laughed.

 

“And he thinks Skarmory’s his dad,” Metagross guffawed, it and Aggron sharing a good laugh at Skarmory’s expense.

 

“Shut up, both of you!” he snapped, flaring his wings angrily; forgetting that Rex was on his back, he took off, going straight up into the sky. Rex’s claws weren’t strong enough to keep a grip, and he tumbled off of Skarmory’s back and started freewheeling through the air; Aggron and Metagross looked at each other before Aggron raced forward, Metagross attempting to grab him psychically.

 

“He’s a Dark-type; I can’t get a hold!” he shouted.

 

“I’m not fast enough!” Aggron yelled as Rex grew closer to the ground; from his angle of descent, he was going to hit the pavement near the playground. Skarmory wheeled around and, spotting Rex, folded his wings back for a dive, but even he wouldn’t be fast enough. Steven ended his battle and shook the children’s hands, turning in time to see Rex’s little body collide with the pavement. He and his Pokémon raced over, finding him shrouded in a small bubble of coiling black energy like dark fire; when that faded, his left hind leg was sticking out at a strange angle and a pool of bright red blood was steadily building beneath him.

 

——————

 

“Michaela…” Ali said as a small whine filled the room. Michaela raised her head tiredly as he laid her cub next to her; she smiled and rolled over, allowing him to stumble the three inches to her on his little paws to nurse. “Where’s Dominic?” She shrugged a shoulder; he looked worriedly out of the window where a heavy storm had formed in Lilycove, thunder slamming down to rock buildings to their core and lightning skipping over the ocean’s surface. “Oh, no,” he said with a swear before grabbing his poncho and umbrella and racing through the door, slamming it behind him; Michaela stared after him worriedly.

 

“Dominic,” she whispered, lowering her head to the wooden floor and letting a silent tear run down her face. As much as she wanted to look for Dominic as well, even though his scent would easily have been lost in the rain, she couldn’t; her newborn baby— _their_ newborn baby was there and needed her attention. Thinking about him, he’d just get mad if she left him alone anyway; she smiled sadly with that thought, licking her cub’s cheek. “You’re a _he_ ,” she said to him, nuzzling him with her nose. “Daddy will be proud to see you; if only I could think of a name…”

 

Ali returned a while later; the digital clock was out of sorts from a power surge, but it felt like hours had passed. Dejected, he dropped the umbrella and poncho next to the doormat, kicking his rain boots aside and slumping down on the couch, head in his hands. From his soundless gestures, Michaela understood perfectly what had happened. “I’m sorry, Michaela,” he said to her, sadness making his voice rough. “The neighbors said they saw him out on the shore; I guess he was trying to catch fish for you two to eat, instincts maybe. No matter how much they called him, he wouldn’t come back in until he caught something, and you know how terrible his hunting skills are; he would’ve been out there all day, except… There were a lot of wild Pokémon out there, and it looked like the lightning and thunder…drove them crazy, although nobody has any idea why. They found him, Dominic, and they…” His voice crackled a little as thunder rumbled very close by, finishing his sentence for him.

 

“Dominic…” she said mournfully, her tears flowing freely into her fur; she held her cub close, the living remnant of Dominic, and licked his face. He just wiggled his nose, not really understanding, and she wished that she could enjoy his painlessness too, but she couldn’t; Dominic was gone and it would always hurt, not just for her but for everybody that knew him. She felt a little tickle and realized that her cub was licking her tears; she let out a small laugh, releasing him and staring back into his wide blue eyes. “I’m okay,” she said to him. “I’m okay…”

 

Ali stood up, surreptitiously wiping his eyes on his coat’s sleeve before turning to her, lifting her cub to examine him. “Rex,” he decided. “If that’s alright with you.” It was alright with Michaela, and her cub stuck his little tongue out at Ali. He was adorable, and Michaela just hoped that he could live long enough to know how amazing he was.

 

——————

 

“Have you seen Skarmory?” Metagross asked Aggron; Steven was using Claydol and Cradily to battle a rookie Trainer a few feet away. Rex was quietly playing in the children’s sandbox, making little mountains and houses out of rocks before knocking them down; bandages still ringed his head and leg since his stitches still tended to bleed every now and again, but otherwise he was pretty fine. He had been quiet since then, quiet but thoughtful, and since then Skarmory had been making a better effort to befriend him.

 

“No, not since morning,” Aggron answered, keeping an eye on Rex; he yawned and started kicking his houses over, stepping on his mountains and crushing them. “Why would you do that?”

 

“No home,” he proclaimed, keeping his eyes on the ground. “No home.”

 

“What does that mean?” Metagross asked; Aggron just shrugged. “I don’t understand why he’s been so peculiar since then; Nurse Joy said that he hadn’t sustained any brain damage.”

 

“Maybe it’s got nothing to do with his brain, I don’t know; maybe he just started thinking.”

 

“About what? He’s three years old.”

 

“He’s smart for a three-year-old; you know that, Metagross.” Metagross just looked towards Steven, watching him command his team as he had been doing for a long time before Rex and not that long after. Rex started whining, squeezing his eyes shut in pain; Aggron tried to lift him but he refused to be touched, running away to the swings’ set. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Water,” he complained, covering his eyes with his paws; Aggron looked up and took note of the dark storm clouds gathering above them.

 

“He’s right; it’s about to rain.”

 

“Isn’t Skarmory still out there?” Metagross asked.

 

“He’ll be fine; he won’t rust from a little rain.” Aggron looked up again as a drop of rain fell on his nose, then several more joined it; Steven looked up and warned the Trainer to go home before returning Cradily and Claydol.

 

“Where’s Skarmory?” he asked, running over to them; Aggron and Metagross shrugged. “What about—oh, there.” He picked Rex up and he immediately began barking and growling, clawing at Steven’s shirt and arms. “What’s wrong? Maybe I should take him back to the Pokémon Center…”

 

He didn’t have time to consider it however, as the rain immediately began pouring, lightning flashing in the sky and thunder rolling nearby; the sights and sounds made Rex sick to his stomach, although he couldn’t tell why. Steven returned Aggron and Metagross and bundled Rex in his coat so he could run down the sidewalk, headed back to his house; it wasn’t that long of a travel at all, but the rain made the ground slippery and reduced visibility to nearly zero. Somehow, he made it back, slamming the door shut behind him and set Rex down on the table, his fur soaked through and hanging on him like a weight; he sighed as he turned the heat up and went to the bathroom to change. Rex whined softly as he shook his fur dry, then he tried to settle again, tired; a peck on the window stirred him, then Steven’s rapid footsteps as he went to open the latch.

 

“Skarmory,” he said, confused. Skarmory flew through the window and landed on the ground, completely drenched and with a piece of paper in his beak; he set it down next to Rex before sitting next to the fireplace. Steven picked it up and unfolded it, staring at it with an odd expression. “This is…him?” he asked, setting the paper down; Skarmory nodded. “Where did you find this?” Skarmory turned in the direction of the beach; Steven raised his eyebrows. “You looked through the wreckage to find this for him? Really?”

 

“I’m making an effort,” Skarmory muttered even though Steven couldn’t understand him. Rex looked over at the paper; it was a photograph of two baby Zorua, one male and one female (although Steven surely couldn’t tell the difference), and they were rolling on the dirt wrestling each other. A man’s legs were in the background, and with the person holding the camera that meant two—two humans. He started sniffing the photo but Steven picked it up, inspecting the back of it.

 

“‘Dad, I’m sorry that I couldn’t become a Trainer like you, but I’m happier just being with Pokémon than battling with them—maybe I’ll be breeder or something, I dunno.’” He was reading the writing on the back, writing that smelled sort of familiar. “‘But I have two Zorua now; the female’s from a nursery—I named her after Mom, Arceus rest her soul—and the male is a stray. He’s wild and funny and cunning and really the perfect match for little Michaela; maybe they’ll pair up someday, who knows. I’ve named him Dominic. —Ali.’” Steven looked once more at Rex before setting the photograph on the fireplace’s mantle.

 

“I guess that makes you Dominic,” he said.

 

“Dominic,” he repeated quietly. “Dominic…”


	7. 1.4.3. Dominic, Part III

Dominic tossed the newspaper overboard, rolling onto his stomach to lean on the bow and stare at the sunny sky; it irritated his skin, but he could deal with it after thirteen years of being a Dark-type. He lazily let his claws dip in the water, and a second later he fished out a couple of Magikarp, throwing them onto the boat’s wooden floor; he’d gut and eat them later. He lowered his head until he was staring into the crystal blue waters, looking into the eyes of his reflection. Oh, how he wished he looked somewhat like Dominic, but alas, he did not; five years of fighting for his life would do that, give him scars over his eye and nose and that little chewed-off bit of his ear and that part of his muzzle that had healed wrong, giving him a weird left-side quirk of his lips. His ponytail was supposed to be long enough to be a tail but something cut it short—might’ve been another Zangoose, might’ve been a Scyther, might’ve been himself but he’d be damned if he remembered—and it looked more like a paintbrush’s tip but choppier.

 

His parents would really despise what he’d become.

 

He rolled onto his back, facing the sun despite how much it made his eyes water; he was getting sick of lurking in the darkness, but it was the only thing that could stand him after all. He felt something move beneath the water but ignored it—well, until the Gyrados was actually looking him in the eyes unavoidably; it even _smelled_ pissed off. “So, I’m guessin’ you’re not stayin’ for dinner, seeing as these’re yer sons ‘n’ all,” Dominic said to her before she struck at him.

 

He leapt from the boat as she swept over it, jaws gnashing at air, and he landed on her head; he grabbed onto her whiskers and pulled, bringing her head back as she screeched in pain. “You should know who you’re dealing with,” he said, releasing his grip to slice away one whisker; blood shot from the incision and stained his fur and the water. “It’s _the King_.”

 

“The King,” the she-Gyrados repeated with fear before she dove into the water, leaving a trail of blood in her wake as she swam to its depths; he landed in his boat, shaking it slightly but thankfully not overturning it. He hadn’t used that little trick in a long while because of how much he loved the kill, but lately getting attacked by weaklings was getting boring; they were just mutilated so easily…actually, that probably was why saying his name got everybody scared so bad.

 

He noticed that he was reaching mainland again and grinned; all that time in Sootopolis was driving him bananas, despite the fact that its eternal darkness was perfect for him. He started skinning one of the Magikarp as he waited, tossing its hide into the water for that she-Gyrados to find, and he sliced its innards up into nice cutlets. They tasted sweet and not at all sour, although it could’ve used a little tartar sauce; he had to remember to pick some up later…

 

_Dominic curled up in the middle of the hellfire—it wasn’t like it was going to hurt him anyway—and he cried without a sound; for what, he didn’t know, but something left a great gaping hole in his chest that was so painful it was almost physical. He felt his tears instantly burn away from the hellfire’s heat, but it didn’t matter; with each tear that evaporated, thrice took its place until he was finally and completely beaten._

_I want…what do I want?_

_He saw the King sit in front of him, his head facing forward and his mouth silent as the fire around them; Dominic wanted to speak, but what could he say? “I hate you”? That wouldn’t begin to describe his feelings, and besides, he was still ambivalent about the whole thing…strangely. “The King wants to know what you’re thinking,” he finally said, staring into the black flames._

_“I’m mean…don’t you already know?” he asked hoarsely. “You’re just part of my mind, a figment of my imagination.”_

_“Nope,” he replied curtly. “The King…Dominic…they are two people, two people in one body; every Dark-type has two people, but none have the pleasure of joint command—for them, it’s Hell or goody-good.”_

_“The darkness in me…was incarnated into you?”_

_“The King has always been in you, watching, waiting,” he continued. “The King doesn’t know for what, but the revolution was the best chance he had of taking control. Many shadows took control, turning Dark-types rabid, and other types are only under mild Hypnosis, making their actions completely intentional; back to Dark-types, we are always susceptible to the darkness inside, no matter how pure of heart, and what Mewtwo did was increase that weakness until majority of you. Fell.” He spoke so choppily at the end that ‘fell’ was its own sentence._

_“How do you know more than me?”_

_“You know it…you just think you don’t.”_

_“Is that a riddle?”_

_“No, it’s common sense.” The King rose and turned, looking Dominic in the eyes; his were darker, or maybe that was just the hellfire’s reflection. “We are at an impasse.”_

_“That means…?”_

_“We can’t get along, yet we have to be together, because I’m you and you’re me.”_

_“Oooh… I’m scats-zoe-anemic.”_

_“What? You mean schizophrenic?”_

_“That’s what I said.” Dominic dropped his head to the ground, staring at his paws mournfully. “I don’t want to be scats-zoe-anemic...”_

_“You know, schizophrenia has nothing to do with alternate personalities—”_

_“I know,” he whispered. “But I hear voices…I hear their voices, and now you’re there too…I don’t want to be you—I don’t want to be the King! I want to be me!”_

_“Guess what?” He stepped closer, flashing his sharp white teeth. “The King is now you, too.”_

“No!” he gasped, kicking the Magikarp away; he grabbed his ears, trying to banish the thoughts from his mind. “Nooooo! The King can’t take any of Dominic’s dumb sentiments!”

 

He had become the King, he had become the King officially; Rex, he reveled in the limelight, excited at the idea of others prostrating before him, but Dominic… Ah, Dominic was sick and tired of every Pokémon and their Eggs shying away every time he passed by; he was sick of humans looking at him with fear and worry, hiding their children and elderly; he was sick of having to creep through the shadows at night like a Holocaust escapee to avoid persecution; he was sick of—

 

“…I’m sick of living…”

 

Pills, the King spit them out; holding his breath, the King punched him in the gut so he had to inhale; a knife, the King tossed it away; drowning, the King forced him to surface; burning, the King put the fire out; electrocution, the King always had rubber on him; battle, the King _always_ eviscerated his opponent…

 

It was easy to see that no matter what he did, the King wouldn’t allow Dominic the cowardly (but easy) way out of his control.

 

Since then, he had also never seen his dad, the real Dominic, ever again; if Dominic was to assume that his dad was really just an illusion, then why couldn’t he recreate him? or if his dad was the real deal, speaking to him from the Beyond through shadows, then why didn’t he do it again? or his mother? Dominic really could’ve used either of them; he could’ve used anything to contain what little bit of sanity he even had left, and since they were already dead, they wouldn’t have had a chance of leaving him like Ali…or Steven…or Steven’s Pokémon…

 

“I wonder…if I’ll ever meet a person…that won’t leave me…that will _choose_ not to leave me…”

 

He ate the rest of the Magikarp and tossed the bones overboard, licking his claws clean; they weren’t enough, but hell, he wasn’t going to catch anything better in those waters unless he wanted to deal with Big Momma again. He scratched his head, searching for something, but he only managed a chewed-up corn cop, his old toothbrush, and a baby Taillow; he released it into the air with a tired sigh.

 

“I want to die so badly…”

 

_“I want to die, so very very badly,” he said with even more vigor to his reflection in the mossy pond; the forlorn Zorua only stared back at him, just as sad and hopeless as he was. There was a new scar on Dominic’s face in the shape of a claw mark that curved over his snout and on top of his left eye; he could make it disappear with an illusion, but he could still feel the pain of it, physical and mental, beneath the cover…_

_“You want to die?” His reflection distorted until he saw the King staring back at him, a wicked grin on his face. “That’s too bad; the King cannot allow that. Although, if you want other people to die…”_

_“NO!” he cried, then he put his head down and tried to cry, but he had run out of tears long ago._

He heard Big Momma coming back around before he saw her, her and Uncle Ed and Aunt Betty and a couple more Gyrados backing her up; they swarmed him like underwater locusts for a moment before stilling, and he braced himself as they came up simultaneously to bash his boat to wood shrapnel. Luckily, that seemed to be their only purpose; they soon slithered back to the depths, leaving him flailing in the cold water until he could inflate his inner tube.

 

“Arceus,” he sighed, pedaling down the water with his floaty. “Damn you, Arceus…”

 

He made it to the shoreline—or rather, he sort of washed up next to it; he was too exhausted to even crawl up the bank. He collapsed onto the mud with a sigh, ignoring the feel of it in his fur and closing his eyes. He only needed to rest a few seconds…yeah, just a few sec…

 

_“Dominic, come eat,” Steven called from the kitchen; Dominic stirred and yawned but didn’t move, remaining in the wool blanket’s cozy hug. It was wintertime, meaning that even with all of his fur he didn’t dare move three inches from the fireplace. “Dominic…”_

_“Noooo,” he complained, burying his face in his neck fur._

_“King, come on.”_

_“Huh? I’m not…” Dominic stood, then he noticed a trail of blood slowly making its way from the kitchen onto the living room floor; he panicked and tried to check on Steven but it felt as if his paws were nailed to the wood. He opened his mouth, but only a weird cackle came out._

_“You heard him,” Dominic said, even though his voice wasn’t coming from his mouth. “Come on,_ King _.”_

_He sunk through the floor as if it was quicksand, feeling it compress his chest and steal his breath away; he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again he was lying on the beach, the wind whipping salty and fierce with a storm on the horizon. The sky was grey and the ocean was black as lead, furiously slamming against the sand and tossing him backwards like paper in the breeze; he tried to grip something—anything—but he kept getting blown away, and no matter how far back he went he always ended up next to the water only to be blown backwards and repeat the cycle again._

_“Dominic!” He recognized the voice: it was Michaela. She was on the beach, a baby Zorua in her arms…it was him; it was Rex, Dominic Jr. or whatever he chose to call himself. She was looking out into the water shouting his name; he closed his eyes for a second, distraught, and when he looked again there was his father instead, his knees in the sand and his head in his claws._

_“Arceus… I guess the darkness is better than me,” he mumbled with a humorless smile just before several wild Pokémon leapt upon him, teeth gnashing and claws slashing; Dominic got to his feet and ran to his side, but something gripped his hind legs, pulling him to a stop. His eyes widened, then he shut them, turning away._

_“Get up,” the King jeered, grabbing Dominic’s arm and pulling him to his feet. “Get up and see what you’ve done to everybody that’s ever cared about you.”_

Dominic jerked awake at the feel of razor-sharp claws in his side; he stared down at the wound they created, the blood pouring red and hot down his leg. “Good, you’re awake,” someone said; he raised his head and stared down a long forest clearing full of Pokémon to the end, where another Zoroark was sitting on a withering tree stump. He had purple fur instead of Dominic’s red and a scar that had his left eye sealed shut; he stared with a permanent scowl and an I-kill-you-type aura. “I was afraid you’d died out there.”

 

“Uh-huh… Exactly who are you and who do you think you are to try and kid—nap—me?” He tried to push forward but his arms were outstretched, tied to a tree on either side of him by a cluster of vines.

 

“I am Lamont,” he answered, grey eyes narrowing in warning. “…Do you have a problem with that?”

 

“Which are you?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“You know what I said, ‘n’ you know what I mean.”

 

“Ah… You have too much of a mouth for your size.”

 

“Yeah? Your mate’s mouth is perfect for my size however.” Even though they looked like they didn’t want to, the other Pokémon laughed at that; Lamont’s eyes narrowed to silver slits.

 

“I hate funny guys.”

 

“Then youz and mez won’tz be gettin’ alongz.”

 

“You know what?” he sighed, raising his claws. “You’re more pain than you’re worth; I wanted to offer you a deal, but you’re incapable of advanced thought processes, it looks like.”

 

“What _deal_?” he sneered; Lamont waved him off.

 

“Why do you care, Lone Ranger?”

 

“I don’t, but I don’t have anythin’ better to do.”

 

“I know you’re the King, the brass balls guy of southern Hoenn, the rebel with a thirst for blood and a hunger for carnage—”

 

“Lemme guess, you get most of your words offa cereal boxes.”

 

“—and with my intelligence that is somewhat within the range of a normal living being’s,” he continued, irritated, “I think we can do well together.”

 

“Do well, eh? That’s not really my _modus operandi_ …”

 

“Look who’s speaking Cereal Box now,” he snorted.

 

“I was a freak for 80s crime spit,” he said, sticking out his tongue. “’nyway, I don’t work with ‘nybody—not even myself.”

 

“Come on, don’t be shy,” Lamont said, beckoning him with a claw as if he was a pup; the action made him growl. “And on a side note, if you refuse, you die.”

 

“That’s not really a choice…”

 

“Who said it was?”

 

“Well, here’s somethin’ you should know: I don’t like you.”

 

“Not many Pokémon do,” he admitted, “but around here, _I’m_ the king.”

 

“Really?” he asked derisively. “ _You’re_ the king around here?”

 

“That’s right.” Dominic twisted his arm around, feeling the vine give a little. “Don’t think you can cheat your own kind, your own flesh and blood, _King_ ,” he added, brandishing his claws threateningly.

 

“I don’t care about flesh and blood,” he snarled. “My family, my parents and my adopted family, they’ve all died because of me; obviously, I don’t give a crap about those close to me, those far from me, or anything or anybody in-between.” He snapped the vine on his right arm, freeing it, and released a wave of dark energy that KO’d most of Lamont’s Pokémon; the others were easily caught in a mass illusion. Lamont stood, hellfire burning from his claws and elbows; Dominic dragged his claws across a large boulder, sharpening them with a screech and a shower of sparks.

 

“You’re crass, irascible, and from what I’ve heard and seen, clinically insane,” Lamont said as they sunk into a crouch, circling each other, searching for weaknesses. “And yet you’ve never taken a plunge.”

 

“A plunge?”

 

“You know…” He mimed snapping his neck.

 

“I don’t want to die; that would be too easy for me, and it’d be what he wants.”

 

“He who?”

 

“The King is the one in control, every minute of every day it is the King that kills!” he shouted, his voice reverberating off of the trees and sending the nearby bird Pokémon flying. “I hear those voices from Hell constantly, and the King revels in the sound; to join them would be ending him and his pitiful and hated existence but giving myself up, physically, spiritually…”

 

“I’ve killed more than my fair share as well, rebels and revolutionaries,” Lamont said with a grimace. “It’s not fun, is it?”

 

“…Dominic doesn’t enjoy it.”

 

“But there’s not much else to do, not since the Legendaries have given up on us.”

 

“I don’t believe they’ve really given up,” he countered. “I’ve been seeing them around for a…long time; they’ve just been watching…watching and having a laugh at our expense!”

 

Lamont made the first move, striking out with his claws and slicing away a part of Dominic’s cheek; Dominic grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward, dealing a punch to his midsection. Lamont spit up, paralyzed, and Dominic snapped his arm before pushing him back into a tree, pinning him to the bark by his neck. “You’re fast,” Lamont praised quietly. “And relentless. But you should know something.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“For a Zoroark, I’m quite good…at illusions.” A terrifying headache surged between Dominic’s temples, downing him, and when he opened his eyes he saw Lamont straddling his hips, his claws dripping a lot of blood with something in his palm, something that was…sort of moving…

 

“M-My…” Dominic grabbed his right arm—or what was left of it anyway, as Lamont tossed his limb deep into the woods.

 

“Keep on your toes, _Your Majesty_.”

 

“…You too,” Dominic sneered, breaking his own illusion with a sharp tug on Lamont’s ears; he blinked wildly as he came to, but Dominic had already broken both of Lamont’s legs. “Have you ever heard of Dominick Cobb?”

 

“Again,” Lamont growled as another headache started; this time, Lamont had him bound to a tree upside-down with his hands crucified by his own claws. Dominic pulled a similar one, forcing Lamont to swallow his own foot, and Lamont retaliated by making Dominic swallow a handful of nightshade; a dozen illusions later, they finally returned to the real world, tired and sweating and out of ideas.

 

“You’re not half bad,” Dominic gave him.

 

“You as well… As I’ve said, we’d make a good team.”

 

“As I’ve said…I don’t work with anybody…not even myself.”

 

“You’re the only person that you can trust,” he said.

 

“Maybe before…but not now. Some Dark-types are only the sum of their parts.”

 

“And you believe that spiel?”

 

“I have to believe in something…or else I’ll go in _sane_.” He laughed at the thought of it. “Oh, you really don’t want to meet the King, Lamont.”

 

“But isn’t that you?”

 

“…Yes,” he said, grinning manically. “…It is.” He sliced at Lamont’s shoulder, creating a thick flow of blood that spilled out onto the grass beneath them, staining it red.

 

“What?” Lamont said, eyes wide. “I can’t…break the illusion…”

 

“Because it’s no illusion,” he told him. “The King never uses illusions.” He lunged at Lamont again, pinning him by his arm to a tree, then he slammed his claws into Lamont’s gut, feeling his blood pulse as it poured out of him; Lamont grimaced as his face paled, ears drooping weakly as he gripped Dominic’s wrist.

 

“You’re…pretty good,” he smirked, voice hoarse. “You know…I met your dad once…we were strays, us two…he was…nothing like you…”

 

“Great.” Dominic stabbed Lamont’s good eye. “The King would hate to be like a wuss like him.”

 

_“Get up,” the King jeered, grabbing Dominic’s arm and pulling him to his feet. “Get up and see what you’ve done to everybody that’s ever cared about you.”_

 

_“The King doesn’t care,” Dominic retorted, grabbing the King’s wrist in turn and tossing him forward into the water. “Because the King will burn away anything and everything that makes the mistake of trusting him in the first place.”_

_The King was gone, leaving only Dominic’s reflection staring back at him from the suddenly-still water. “You’ll only drag others down until the day you die,” his reflection said before grabbing his neck, pulling him under; the water held him down like a weight, pulling him further and further away from the moon and stars. That was pretty much what his mind felt like: heavy water holding him down, preventing him from getting to the surface to breathe. He could hear them, too: the voices of Hell._

_“Let them scream,” he murmured, folding his claws behind his head and moving with the current instead of fighting it. “I’m the only person insane enough to listen.”_


	8. 1.5. Heart Sundae

“Did you lose a screw or something?” Reyes demanded, breaking the silence that had overtaken Dominic; he rolled his eyes a little before looking at Reyes as if coming from the recesses of his addled mind. “Why would you do that?”

 

“…Don’t blow a gasket, Sceptile,” Dominic muttered, snapping his claws; the illusion immediately dispelled, freeing the now-confused Slateporters. “There, it’s all good.”

 

“My arm begs to differ,” he said through his teeth, indicating his still-healing arm. “What the hell is your problem?”

 

“You mean, aside from the usual?”

 

“Don’t—you— _care?_ ”

 

“Why should the King care? It’s not like they care about him… And anyways, they bore him; humans do the same thing all the time and it’s so tedious and pointless. Their societies always fall apart because they can’t figure out their own food chain so they always have damn fights and wars—why exactly are Pokémon below them?”

 

“Look, I don’t know the source of your sudden attitude problem, but _fix it_.”

 

“Make me,” he sneered; Reyes’ eyes narrowed.

 

“You don’t want me to,” he growled, his voice dropping an octave; Dominic just snorted. “Dominic, if I attack you, I cannot guarantee your life, not even for Alakazam.”

 

“I should be telling _you_ that.” He started to move forward, claws spread, but Reyes knew his trick by now: he would mislead with his annoying banter and/or theatrics before striking, his speed working with his ruthlessness to get a good finishing shot right from the get go; he had the obvious skills of a practiced killer, so it would have worked on anybody else, but on the contrary, Reyes was a juggernaut, which made him capable of withstanding Dominic’s attacks and sending them right back at him.

 

Dominic launched himself at Reyes with incredible speed, claws prepared to dig his organs out; Reyes grabbed his wrists instead, setting his heels in the dirt to hold his position, and twisted Dominic down into the ground, holding his arms behind his back. Dominic growled and tried to look into Reyes’ eyes but he refused his gaze, staring adamantly at Dominic’s leg, the one with the limp; there was an old scar that his fur had almost grown long enough to cover. Reyes held his leaf blade close enough to Dominic’s neck that he could feel it slicing through the bandages into the teeth marks, reopening them and causing blood to stain his fur, but he went no further. “Kill me,” Dominic demanded.

 

“Don’t thing I won—” Dominic suddenly flipped Reyes, reversing positions, and dug his claws into Reyes’ chest, getting globs of chlorophyll in his fur.

 

“Don’t think the King won’t kill you without a warning!” he said louder, slicing deep grooves into Reyes’ neck that impaired his windpipe; luckily, being in the sunlight meant that the King’s attacks were restrained, and also that he could continually heal himself. He pinned Dominic’s wrists together with his vines and kicked him away; he flopped onto his back with an angry growl, fur bristling, and rushed Reyes again, claws out and flaming with dark energy. Reyes stood his ground and put his arms out; Dominic’s claws sunk into his chest and stomach, giving him the biting sensation of dark energy, but he stood his ground, grabbing Dominic’s forearms to slam him to the ground.

 

“You’ve made me,” Dominic said, his eyes narrowing. The air around them shimmered with extreme heat; Reyes jumped away a second before Dominic and the area around him burst into large black fire, fire that was far from being illusionary. “Ah, now see what you’ve made me done?” he said in his King voice, standing up and brushing the dirt from his fur. “Now I have to get my hands dirty, all for a stinking revolutionary.” He raised his claws, watching the flames skitter across and between them like a long black Ekans. “You should know that hellfire burns like…well, Hell; it’s also impossible to douse, weak only to the pure blood of a Legendary Pokémon, and you know how hard it is to injure one of them.”

 

“Chht,” he snorted, backing away as the flames spread; they were fast, almost as fast as Dominic, and he had no chance of winning if he had to split his focus between the two of them. Reyes had only heard of hellfire; from what he’d read, it was the purest manifestation of dark energy in existence, burning away at anything and everything until the master had no negativity left to fuel it, and since it was Dominic he was facing, that sure as hell was a lost cause. “You’ve made me as well.”

 

There weren’t any trees around them, being Slateport, so that limited his move set, but there was one thing he could do; he learned it from Lilly a long time ago. He focused hard on the ocean, vast and free, and put all of his energy into containing that free spirit; the waves lapping at the sand increased in size and speed until they were lapping halfway up the beach, pulling beach towels and sand toys and colorful umbrellas away and into the current. Dominic set his jaw and lunged forward; Reyes sidestepped him, getting a bit of hellfire on his right arm as he did so, and let Dominic fall into the water. Reyes brought the water up around Dominic’s head, sealing it in a bubble; he sat up as quickly as he could with his soaked mane, scratching at his neck as he gasped bubbles of air. “I can easily leave you to drown like that, Dominic,” Reyes told him, although he couldn’t be sure if Dominic heard him. Reyes glanced at his arm, which was still slowly burning and dripping chlorophyll, and cut it away; it fell to the ground and burned away without even ash.

 

“Bleergh!” Dominic exclaimed; it looked like he forgot that Reyes could do that. His claws dropped and he fell back against the wet sand, weakened; Reyes could have left him like that, Dominic would have drowned, and he could have told Alakazam that it wasn’t his fault, that Dominic was too much to handle…

 

Then again, Brendan told him never to take the coward’s way out.

 

He released the water bubble and it splashed to the ground; Dominic started coughing and sputtering, trying to clear his throat. “You should— _cough_ —have just left me to die,” he hissed.

 

“Is that what you want? To die?” Dominic looked into Reyes’ eyes, but Reyes wasn’t scared; Dominic’s furious expression had dissolved into dissent.

 

“…Don’t feel sorry for me,” he muttered, dropping his head to the ground and letting his ears fall. “I’m no pity party.”

 

“I can’t help but feel sorry for you,” Reyes said in a low voice. “Being alone is never easy.”

 

“Shut up; I love bein’ alone.”

 

“…No, you don’t; you’re afraid that the loneliness will make you think, and you hate where your thoughts lead you.”

 

“Get offa me! You’re not my psychologist!”

 

“No, I’m not, but I’ve seen that expression countless times on both sides of the revolution. I’m not going to kill you because you’re a kid, but you have to make an effort to clear up whatever is going on in your brain, not for me but for every person you’ll meet, because the way you are now—”

 

“—I won’t make friends, I won’t have a family, I won’t be loved,” he sneered. “Maybe I don’t want all of that.”

 

“Maybe you don’t want it,” Reyes agreed. “But Dominic, you really do need it.” Dominic got to his feet, muttering some nasty things under his breath as he squeezed his mane dry. “You’re going to help the marketgoers and clean up the vendors’ stalls, and you won’t make a single complaint or else I’ll personally have your head,” he added, his voice dropping in warning. “It won’t be a change, but it will be a start.”

 

“And if I don’t?”

 

“I’m not your parent,” Reyes said simply, holding his eye contact; Dominic almost visibly withered under his gaze. Thinking about it, it was the first time Reyes didn’t look at him with anger or pity or contempt; he probably wasn’t used to it. “I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to; _you_ have to choose to change yourself.”

 

“Arceus you sound like a damn Christmas movie or something,” he muttered under his breath, but Reyes held his eyes until he shuffled back to the booths. Huh, maybe Dominic had potential to change after all.

 

——————

 

Reyes watched Louis dock his boat on the pier, hopping onto the slick wood with a little difficulty. “You took your time in arriving,” Reyes noted dryly; Louis chuckled, scratching behind his ear.

 

“Where’s the enemy?” Reyes pointed at him still helping the vendors clean up. “He’s actually helping _humans_?”

 

“Yes, and more or less of his own volition,” Reyes replied. “He has the mind of a child and the fickle tendencies of the weather, but apparently he has some semblance of goodwill in him too.”

 

“That’s strange; I thought all rebels only cared about themselves.”

 

“Louis, the rebels are like us in that they care about each other and they care about their cause, and so they care about anything that benefits that cause and will use any means necessary to attain their goals; even we do the same, you know.” He sighed and shook his head. “It’s just that a few of them are a little more twisted than others, but even so the King does have his good points.”

 

“Like…?”

 

“Not that I’ve seen them yet, but I’m confident that they’re in there somewhere.” He looked over and noticed a pair of dark-haired children playing with a piece of broken glass, using it to reflect red-colored light on the cobblestones; Dominic was completely entranced by the trick, pouncing on the light and chasing after it.

 

“Maybe he’s too stupid to really be a threat?”

 

“That’s more good _news_ than a good point; he does have the power to slaughter all of us…if his I.Q. wasn’t in the negative regions.” Dominic finally dropped on his back, exhausted, and the little girl came over and scratched his stomach; he giggled a little and laid back. “Dominic!” Dominic raised his head and sunk into another growl but he stood up, pushing the child away (not at all roughly, Reyes noticed) and stalked over.

 

“I did your damn work what else do ya want from me,” he muttered under his breath.

 

“Dominic, we’re leaving.” His ears perked up.

 

“Really? Finally?”

 

“Dominic, this is Louis; he’s a fellow revolutionary and the one in charge of the Transportation branch.” He gestured to Louis, an amazingly naïve specimen of Monferno.

 

“Bastard,” Dominic said to him. “You took your damn sweet time getting here, didn’t you?”

 

“Uh…”

 

“Ignore him,” Reyes said, punching Dominic in the side.

 

“Dominic?” Louis repeated. “That’s your name?”

 

“Don’t wear it out.”

 

“Where did you come from?”

 

“I dunno, the water?”

 

“You mean a boat? Where did the boat come from?”

 

“I dunno…the water?”

 

“Yeah, boats are on the water, but where was it docked for you to get aboard?”

 

“I give up,” he said.

 

“Let’s go already.” Luckily, Louis had brought along a boat decent enough to hold cabins, which was great considering that reaching Ever Grande would be an overnight trip, but conversely horrible, because that would mean sleeping within ten feet of “the King.” “Louis, do the cabins have reinforced doors?” he asked Louis.

 

“Thankfully, yeah.”

 

“Great…” He still may find a way though; I’m confident in his resourcefulness, he thought sourly. Killing is the only thing he’s good at, really. He boarded the blue-painted boat and looked over his shoulder; Dominic was still standing on the dock staring at it with an awful expression on his face. “Dominic.”

 

“Why,” he groaned, jumping the short distance between the pier and the boat; his weight made the bow dip several inches.

 

“Arceus, why are you so heavy?”

 

“It’s this damn _fur_ ,” he said, somewhat offended; it was actually quite amazing that weight-based jokes hurt his feelings more than being called monster or psychopathic.

 

“You need to take everything out; if you were to fall in the water like that, you’d drown in a second,” Louis said. Dominic groaned and stomped his feet, but regardless he undid his ponytail and shook his fur out; eighteen objects of various origin fell out, ranging obnoxiously from a stereo boom box to a framed painting that looked like it was stolen from a museum.

 

“Arceus, are you a pawn shop?” Reyes asked.

 

“Oh wait there’s more.” He combed his fingers through his fur and three fish Pokémon hit the ground: two Magikarp and a live Octillery. “Arceus,” he commented, kicking the Octillery back into the water; it left a large puddle of ink on the floor. “Is that it, or is there a pat-down next?”

 

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Reyes asked Louis; he nodded his head.

 

“We’re already stocked up, so we can leave right away.” He untied the rope locking the boat to the pier and went inside of the main cabin; the engine started up seconds later, then Slateport was quickly shrinking behind them as they moved across the sea. Dominic stumbled slightly at the sudden movement, then he practically threw himself against the railing, his muscles tensing as he gripped it for dear life. Reyes really didn’t understand why he was freaking out so much considering that they had _just_ ridden a boat; surely he couldn’t have gotten hydrophobic _that_ quickly, then again it was hard to understand anything with him. Against his better judgment and his severely limited trust, he slowly approached Dominic from behind and placed a hand on his shoulder; Dominic didn’t tense, which was good, but it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway because he was already as tightly-strung as a rope.

 

“ _Please_ , no pity or therapy or psychology or reverse-freaking-psychology or some long-winded anecdote, Reyes.”

 

“No, I just have a general question for you.”

 

“…Huh?”

 

Reyes moved forward so he could stare out at the world too. “Does this look as beautiful to you as it does to me?”

 

“…Probably not,” he answered honestly. “Frankly, you don’t want to know what’s out there in these eyes.”

 

“Try me.” He didn’t expect Dominic to grab his wrist, and doubly didn’t expect the image that overtook his eyes: he saw a sky clouded by grey plumes that poured shattering shards of rain like knives, stabbing at his skin and pounding furiously on the boat; below, the sea was black as lead and rolled as thunder, slapping and slamming against the hull and tossing them to and fro. He looked over at Dominic, who licked his chops carefully before moving his claws back to the railing; instantly, he stared at the calm blue water once more. “What was that?”

 

“Memories.” He lowered himself until he could drop his chin on the railing, then he muttered something too quickly for Reyes to understand. “…Dominic doesn’t remember too much because he’s chosen to keep his memories with me; therefore, he can live a carefree lifestyle and I can be stuck with all of this damn emotional baggage!” he suddenly shrieked, dragging his claws down the streel railing, leaving deep scores in it but cracking his claws in the process. “Why do I have to be this way!?” Reyes didn’t know how to interpret that statement; he could’ve meant having split personalities, but also could’ve meant being a Dark-type or even parentless and friendless. “I’m a Dark-type! I’m _the_ Dark-type! _I’m the King!_ ”

 

“This whole time, you were the King, huh? Why is it you never tried to kill me?”

 

“…Tired,” he grumbled, rubbing his ear between his claws. “And the King doesn’t like chlorophyll; it’s sticky and ugly and smells too sweet.”

 

“That didn’t stop you any other time.”

 

“Uguuu the King finds you terribly annoying.”

 

“I’m starting to understand you two a little better: Dominic is a teenager, always curious and playful and sarcastic and yearning for something interesting in life; you, the King, are what he’s created within his mind to deal with all of…this. Does that make sense?”

 

“Not about the King,” he countered; he frowned at the sea before returning his eyes to Reyes’, completely serious. “Dominic can and will kill, not just when he has to. He _seems_ innocent and easy-going, but don’t be fooled; the one that killed those kids back in Rustboro was him, since he’s the one that cares enough about factionless strays to _avenge_ them or whatever.”

 

“I’m not saying killing is ever good,” Reyes said slowly, “but Dominic at least has more reason than you.”

 

“Bah, _reason_ ; killing is killing whether it’s done with good taste or no taste.” He stuck his tongue out as a wave crashed against the hull, catching a mouthful of saltwater. “But you don’t understand that, not quite yet; you still believe that a justified killing is straight, when in reality, when your hands are bloodied it doesn’t matter why. The King prefers an easy kill; he doesn’t need the baggage of _reasoning_ or _ethics_ with it.”

 

“But _why_ do you even exist in the first place?”

 

“Every Dark-type has a dark side,” he explained. “Don’t you remember that theory that all Dark-types come from darkness?”

 

“But it was _just_ a theory; it was never physically proven by any Professor. Every study on the matter showed that Dark-types have just as much a propensity for evil deed as any other—except a Fairy-type, I guess.”

 

“No, no it’s not just a damn theory; how could a human prove something so strictly Pokémon? It’s like saying there’s a scientific reason that a cub seeks his mother’s milk, or that a male seeks a female during mating season; there’s no rhyme or reason to it, that’s just the nature of things.”

 

“Okay, let’s assume that I take your word— _your_ word—over the word of six trained professionals in all studies of Pokémon—how exactly does this work?”

 

“See, there are Dark-types that can overcome their blackness naturally; Dark-types that can overcome their blackness with the help of others; then there are Pokémon like Dominic who couldn’t overcome even a Pidgey and instead fell prey to blackness—the blackest blackness, in fact, which is hellfire. That’s about as Dark-type as you can get.”

 

“Well, what made him so easy to corrupt?”

 

“…Dominic has a lot of fears,” he finally admitted. “He has a lot, but I think that the strongest he has is the fear of death.” Reyes could understand that, considering all of the death Dominic had to see. “Because of that fear, he was desperate to avoid death in any way, even if it meant giving himself away to the enemy.”

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have the key to immortality hidden in my mane,” he said, letting out a breath. “But I am the King; with me, there’s no chance in the world that he’d get killed.”

 

“Killed…” Reyes repeated. “But it’s inevitable that you will still die.”

 

“Haha,” he laughed. “What’s it matter to Dominic? He’s just as crazy as the rest of ‘em.”

 

——————

 

Reyes didn’t know what woke him up, but at least it wasn’t him lying in a pool of his own blood; he sat up in bed rubbing his jaw, glancing groggily at the wall clock. “Just past three, damn it,” he mumbled, sliding to the ground; the boat rocked steadily beneath his feet, not sickeningly but still noticeably. He raised his head as the sound came again: it was a hurried knock on the door.

 

_I bet I know who._

 

He opened the door and saw Dominic standing in the hallway, one arm holding his pillow to his chest and the other waving frantically in the air; obviously, that was _Dominic_. “Can I sleep over?” he asked, smiling hopefully.

 

“No.” Reyes shut the door in his face.

 

“Pwease?”

 

“No.” Dominic was quiet, then there was a _thump_ as he sat down on the other side of the door.

 

“Can I be honest with you, Reyes? …I don’t think I deserve to live.”

 

“I could’ve told you that.”

 

“No, really… I don’t understand why I’m livin’ now; I’ve never done anything but hurt others… But even so, I’m afraid of dyin’, of what it means and would mean to my parents…”

 

“I do understand your problems, but I’ve heard this already and I cannot do anything about it.”

 

“Uuu, you’re right, you’re always right Reyes.” He sounded like he was crying a little. “I…I’m really really sorry for all the trouble that I and the King—mostly the King—caused you; it’s not my…” He blew his nose into something Reyes hoped wasn’t his mane. “Uuguuu! Why do I have to be this way!? I want to…I want to die…” Dominic stopped talking for a while, then he started muttering too quickly for him to understand.

 

“I came from here, except my parents were from Unova,” he started. “My mom was adopted from a Pokémon Breeder and my dad was a stray picked up by the same guy. My name, also, wasn’t always Dominic—that’s actually my dad’s name; my real name is Rex, Latin for _king_.” He didn’t say any more than that, but it was still a lot of new information about him; Reyes sighed and sat down with his back to the door and, he imagined, Dominic’s back.

 

“My owner, Ali, was a seaman; he loved travellin’ and going to new places, but not to battle, which his dad didn’t like. He raised my parents from cubs, then he helped my mom when she was gonna have me. On the night I was born, it was stormin’ horribly; my dad, he went out instead of stayin’ with my mom, and nobody knows why, but he went out to the beach of Lilycove, maybe to catch some fish for his new child, who knows. He was attacked and killed by some wild Pokémon.

 

“My mom and Ali, they were killed during a storm at sea; I washed up, the only one still alive and only even ‘cause my mom sacrificed herself to save me, and Steven Stone found me. I was with him for eight years—Pokémon time anyway—and then I found out somethin’ about Dark-types: we’re all dark inside, but some of us can overcome that darkness and be good Pokémon, and others are taken over by it; my darkness is strong, and it’s strong because of the negativity that’s been following me my whole life. My dad was shredded, my mom and Trainer were shipwrecked, and I killed Steven’s Skarmory; my darkness is strong, and that’s because I wreck everything I go near.” Reyes already had some scars’ worth of evidence. “…I’m so weak, I’d rather blame it all on the King…and he’s still me…than admit that I’m just a walking trap.”

 

“You are, though,” Reyes said, staring out of his porthole. “You are a trap and you’ll always be a trap.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Arceus, you don’t have any positivity left in you.”

 

“That’s funny; I thought _you_ were the pessimist.”

 

“Not exactly, you just bring out the worst in me. Happiness does still exist, Dominic, so why can’t you be happy?”

 

“I…could never allow myself that much—or rather, _they_ wouldn’t let me.” Reyes was briefly reminded of when Dominic said that _they_ chose him to be the King.

 

“Who is they?”

 

“The voices in my head.” Dissociative identity disorder _and_ schizophrenia. “You’re probably thinkin’ that I’m crazy, but ‘s okay, I told you that I am a while ago; I don’t have a problem with it. I’ve accepted it all, I can take this…for the rest of my life…and for the rest of my life…I’ll just be ridin’ the current ‘stead of fightin’ it…”

 

“That’s something most people _would_ have a problem with.” He waited a long while but Dominic didn’t say anything else; Reyes opened the door and found him curled up with his pillow, fast asleep. Reyes kicked him in the side and he giggled, still asleep; he’s an amazingly deep sleeper, Reyes thought. He gave up and nudged Dominic into his room, shutting the door, and threw his blanket over him; Dominic mewled and rolled onto his stomach, his voluminous mane hiding his face from view.

 

“T…Thank you…for never…” he mumbled sleepily; Reyes couldn’t be sure if he was talking to somebody in his dream or not. He moved him over to the corner and returned to his bed, shutting off the light and staring out of the porthole; the sky was full of stars, except there was no moon. Odd, considering that it should have been a full moon that night; so where was Cresselia?


	9. 1.6. Even Demons Can Hope

“Are we there yet are we there yet are we—” Reyes grabbed Dominic’s muzzle and slammed him to the floor. “Reyes, that hurt,” he complained, rubbing his jaw.

 

“Do I look like I care?”

 

“Why are you so mean today?” he whined before giving up, running to the railing to hop excitedly at the looming island holding Ever Grande City and the Pokémon League of Hoenn. He was only surly due to his _goodwill_ of taking Dominic in, since he had the terrible terrible habit of speaking in his sleep, and on top of that he would kick at the walls or scratch the floors during nightmares; with all of that in his cabin, he didn’t get any more than an hour of sleep.

 

“Morning,” Louis said, coming out of the main cabin with a plate of Berries; he handed them to Reyes, who took them gratefully. “Sorry; I wasn’t sure what you eat,” he said to Dominic.

 

“Anything with a pulse,” Reyes muttered.

 

“I eat those!” Dominic practically jumped over the railing, pointing at the rolling schools of Magikarp, Lumineon, and Feebas below them. “But I can’t swim…”

 

“I can’t dive down there, my fire will burn out,” Louis said; both of them turned to Reyes.

 

“I won’t go down there to catch fish for you to eat…it’s against my ethics!”

 

“Please, Reyes?” Dominic pleaded.

 

“No way; just eat Berries.”

 

“Berries aren’t a real meal!”

 

“On the contrary, Berries have more nutrients as a meal than a fish.” He offered his Berries to Dominic, who pulled a face and shook his head.

 

“Meat,” he said staunchly, setting his jaw; Reyes shook his head, avoiding eye contact in case he had any funny ideas. It was only when he heard a splash behind him that he remembered that Louis didn’t know Dominic’s trick; he ran to the railing and saw him sinking below the surface, his fire creating a warm orange glow as it began fading. Reyes formed a vine and tied it into a loop, tossing it down into the water; it hooked around something heavy and he began pulling Louis free. He was more or less alright in the end, just drenched; he hadn’t been underwater long enough for it to have caused lasting damage, but he was a little shaky from the temperature. There was a pair of large Magikarp held in his tail that he dropped on deck; Dominic instantly pounced on them like a wildcat, catching them as they tried to flop away.

 

“Stop it,” Reyes snapped, stepping on his arm. “You need to stop treating other people and Pokémon so damn callously, because someday your karma will return full circle.”

 

“The King does not believe in karma!” he proclaimed. “But he believes in immediate gratification!”

 

“Now I see why he’s a rebel,” Louis commented; Reyes sighed.

 

“He’s not very good at learning lessons either.” Reyes kicked the fish back into the sea. “But now you’re hurting my friends, so you’re going to be in a whole ‘nother game; you’ll learn respect, you’ll learn restraint, and you’ll learn to relent, or so help me I’ll slice you up so badly Hell won’t know what to make of you.”

 

“The King doesn’t find your threats amusing,” he snorted; Reyes grabbed him by his nose, bringing him up until he could slice away the tip of Dominic’s ear.

 

“They aren’t meant to be.” Blood poured down Dominic’s face from the wound; he touched it in disbelief, then he grinned.

 

“That’a boy, Sceptile; it’s no fun if the prey don’t wanna fight back.” Reyes released him, and somehow he landed perfectly on his feet.

 

“You’re going to apologize to Louis.”

 

“Why in hell—” Reyes slashed at his face, an attack he just barely managed to deflect with his claws; sparks flew from the contact and Dominic’s wrist made a painful snapping sound from the force he needed just to defend himself. Reyes grabbed Dominic’s head and forced him down in a bow; he grumbled beneath his breath, “I’m sorry.”

 

“You’re sorry what?”

 

“I’m sorry for almost drowning you Louis!” he repeated, breathlessly angry; Reyes released him and he slunk back to the railing, gripping it as he lowered his head out of view.

 

“I mean, I can tell that he’s somewhat of a good guy…at least, he never tried to kill us in our sleep or anything,” Louis said to Reyes, twiddling his thumbs anxiously, “but it’s not all that smart to make friends with him.”

 

“Does it _look_ like we’re friends?”

 

“Sort of, yeah.”

 

“It’s a good thing your species isn’t the Clarity Pokémon.” He watched as Ever Grande’s docks came into view and helped Louis moor the boat on the pier; Dominic didn’t move for several seconds even after the boat was secured to a post, and it wasn’t until Tex came down that he actually made any gesture, although it was one of alarm and surprise. “Tex, quit doing that; you scare the crap out of everybody,” Reyes told it.

 

“P-P-Porygon-Z?” Dominic stammered, still in shock from his appearance; Tex immediately began buzzing about him, causing his mane to frizz out from his constant electric emissions. “O-Oi, that hurts,” he complained, trying to move away; Tex just followed him, being the annoying virtual insect that it was.

 

“Tex, what are you doing here?”

 

“MEET-MEETING THE NEW GUY,” it replied, finally backing away from Dominic. At that point, his fur was so fluffy he looked like a red and grey fur ball; Louis had to cover his mouth with all four hands to keep from laughing aloud.

 

“The Sharpedo will be feasting upon your tongue,” Dominic warned him; Reyes grabbed his ear, pulling his head down.

 

“Let’s go already, Tex,” Reyes said; they walked up the crudely-carved stone staircases to a ledge, where they each had to climb ladder rungs made of rocks embedded into the stone wall to reach the downhill end of the city. They had to hike through some tall grass, fending away the natural wild Pokémon there (and also prevent Dominic from eating the smaller ones) before they reached the final checkpoint, which was the “gate” situated around the city; it was only seven feet long and seemed paltry, but that was because the actual gate was a psychic barrier held up twenty-four/seven, barring the city from all types of Pokémon, and though he had never visited Sootopolis, he assumed that the rebels had something similar.

 

“…Reyes, you’ve returned safely,” Azalea beamed, throwing her arms around him as he came near; he returned the hug before pulling away, and she began examining the others. “And Tex, Louis…I’m assuming the one that I can’t sense is the King?”

 

“Yes, that would be Dominic; he is a Dark-type.”

 

“Maybe if you took off that blindfold you’d see me,” Dominic pointed out; Azalea just smiled, kind no matter who it was.

 

“That still wouldn’t work… You see, my physical eyes were injured a long time ago; I can’t see through them at all.”

 

“Really?” he asked, eyes wide; a second later, that “King” expression crossed his face as he whispered something to Azalea, resulting in her slapping him so hard Reyes’ jaw ached.

 

“What did he say?”

 

“Nothing that a proper lady should repeat,” she huffed, indignant; Dominic whined, clenching his swelling cheek. “You all may pass.” She held up a hand to the gates; they parted, and less visibly, a hole appeared in the barrier for them to go through—in fact, the gates were only even a marker to know where the hole would be because of the barrier’s consequences. Reyes, Louis, and Tex used the gates like _normal_ freaking Pokémon, but Dominic, extraordinary as he was, tried leaping over them; he received a face-full of barrier, then a face-full of the potent psychic energy it held, which manifested on him as a field of silver electricity. (The contact varied between Pokémon for reasons unknown; for Reyes, it was a strong Fighting-type punch in his reproductive organs…all both of them.)

 

“Are you alright,” Reyes asked, although he was so uncaring of the answer that it was barely even a question. Dominic hit the ground in a larger fluff than before; he remained still for exactly three seconds before getting to his feet.

 

“Bashtaaard,” Dominic slurred, grasping his ears in his claws as he shook his head.

 

“I’ve heard, come on.” Reyes waited for Dominic to stumble his way through the hole, then let Azalea seal it up behind them; he expected ten seconds of silence from Dominic at least, but he only got two.

 

“That Gardevoir was haaaawt.”

 

“She’s got a mate,” Louis told him.

 

“Not that I care!” Dominic said.

 

“Dominic, don’t.” They had to walk a few more pathways and do a little more hiking, something he could’ve done without Dominic’s endless complaints, but they finally reached the last ledge in the mountainous city; Dominic’s head went back and his jaw dropped in awe at the sight of Ever Grande City.

 

The entire place was blooming with flowers, seeing as it was early spring, and when Ever Grande was in bloom it truly was grand; roses, daisies, hydrangeas, myosotis, rhododendrons, tulips, violets, et cetera all opened up to all colors of the rainbows and then some, peeking out with no shame whatsoever from every corner of the ground not taken up by the cobblestone path. The buildings were revamped, all built from naturally-made products to give it the same appearance as plaster but more eco-friendly (and being duly appreciated by Grass-types) and none were as dilapidated as those within the rebels’ cities or the humans cities (no matter how much the revolutionaries befriended them, they were still some polluting bastards); cars were there too, but very few considering the people mainly walked and had the friendly neighborhood Pokémon to offer to carry heavy burdens. Shops and stores abounded, national parks were all over, and very few walked around appearing downtrodden; in short, Ever Grande was as close to a paradise as that world was going to get.

 

“Since the revolutionaries are situated here, there are little to no attacks; therefore, we’re not constantly on guard or have to have weapons constantly at the ready,” Reyes told Dominic, who still hadn’t fixed his dislocated jaw. “Also, we’re not always doing repairs and humans are free to raise families here; this is one of the nicest cities still remaining on the Earth, if you couldn’t see.”

 

“I… Flowers?” He bent down to pluck one of the flowers from the ground, taking a sniff. “It’s weird…so weird…” He stuck it in his fur so that the sunflower’s petals stuck out and got down on all fours, sniffing at more of them; remembering what happened the last time he had a taste of life, Reyes grabbed him by his ponytail, pulling him back.

 

“Alakazam is over in the Pokémon Center; you’re going to talk to him, then you’re going to get the hell out of here before you ruin _our_ lives.”

 

“Aye aye,” he muttered; Reyes herded him towards the Pokémon Center, getting a few unnecessary stares in the process. The glass doors pinged softly as they slid open, blasting them with cool air and the crisp scent of cinnamon as they entered; Nurse Joy and her Chansey were speaking to a young Trainer with his two Eevee, and there were only a few other Trainers within the lobby. Tex and Louis separated from them to attend to their own duties; Reyes released Dominic and he started sniffing around, not saying anything for a long while.

 

“Alakazam is in the basement area,” Reyes said.

 

“I’m really gonna meet him, huh?” he muttered, awe in his voice. “Blaziken told me that if I ever were to meet Alakazam, gut him on sight.” The rebels’ leader wasn’t known for his mercy, in any event.

 

“I really hope you don’t; despite your Dark-type, he is powerful enough to chuck you like a skipping stone.”

 

“I…don’t think I get the simile.”

 

“Not that it matters; you’ll probably get to see it yourself.” Reyes opened the backroom’s door for him, allowing him into the stairwell; they walked the short distance into the cold basement where a few revolutionaries lurked. “Alakazam’s right there,” a Mightyena said, nodding his muzzle in the direction of a door; Reyes nodded back and glanced at Dominic, who was looking all around as if Death itself was going to spring out of nowhere and claim him. He knocked twice on the door, and when he didn’t hear anything he pulled it open. “You first,” he told Dominic; Dominic shook his head and latched onto Reyes’ tail, so he gave up and moved on.

 

The room was entirely empty save for a bright red pillow set in the middle of the wooden floor, and on it was Alakazam, even though he was actually hovering a few inches above it, legs crossed and spoons poised as if for an invisible bowl of soup. “Alakazam—” Reyes started.

 

“Good afternoon,” he interrupted, scratching his long grey whiskers; the spoon remained in the air even as his hand moved.

 

“It’s actually morning.”

 

“My mistake,” he chuckled; he cracked open an eye, looking at Reyes and then Dominic. “And good after—morning to you, Your Majesty.” He even bowed a little, but since it was Alakazam it was more amusing than derogatory; Dominic sort of mumbled something that sounded dangerously like “Revolutionary scum.” “I wouldn’t say that we’re _all_ scum,” Alakazam countered evenly, twirling his spoon psychically.

 

“Reyes is, as far as I’ve seen, not scummy-scum,” he concurred, causing Reyes’ eyes to widen slightly; as far as Dominic’s mind went, that was a compliment, but it was odd considering how detestable Reyes acted around him.

 

“Why is that?”

 

“Because he can kill!” You fool, Reyes thought but didn’t speak aloud. “But uh, in all seriousness, why did you wanna talk to me? I’m sorta a rebel…and you’re sorta the _big_ revolution’ry…”

 

“I’m aware of the differences in our positions, however…Reyes, may you please leave?” he said, interrupting himself to stare at Reyes.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“No, no, stay.” Dominic grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Please, Alakazam sultan President Prime Minister sir?”

 

“…Reyes, do you want to stay?” Alakazam asked him; Reyes shrugged a shoulder, but he immediately felt the tingling sensation of more than just Alakazam’s eyes searching him.

 

“Excuse me, sir, but my mind is _mine_ ,” he said, clenching a fist but quickly loosening his grip; Alakazam relented, but with an odd expression on his aged face.

 

“You may stay, Reyes; now, King…”

 

“Dominic! I mean, my name is Dominic,” he amended, still looking around as if he expected to be attacked at any moment; considering his position, it _was_ highly likely, but he hadn’t shown any fear of the revolutionaries yet—perhaps it was Alakazam’s aura of power that had him on edge.

 

“Dominic,” he corrected. “How exactly did you become ‘the King’?”

 

“Oh, I killed the last four territory leaders,” he said offhandedly. “And it’s not exactly like I became _the King_ ; I could’ve also been _the Dominic_.”

 

“Then why did you become _King_ instead of _Dominic_?”

 

“Because my name, orig’nally, was Rex.”

 

“Interesting… Why did you change it?”

 

“I…didn’t change it; my new-old owner did.” Dominic shivered a little as if the memory itself was bone-chilling.

 

“What was the person’s name?”

 

“S…Steven Stone.” He was getting incrementally more paranoid.

 

“The old Champion who died during the beginning of the revolution? Who was your owner before him?”

 

“A guy…a boatman—seaman…Ali Stuart. He had me and my mom after my dad was killed by wild Pokémon.”

 

“Er, Alakazam, you only wanted to see him to know more about him? because if you plan on killing him, it would be a bad idea…due to how it would throw the rebels’ chain of command out of sorts,” Reyes inserted.

 

“I’m aware of that, Reyes,” Alakazam said coolly, eyes still on Dominic; he clamped his claws around his mouth, shaking slightly. “Dominic, who were your parents?”

 

“Sho… Two Zoroark…Michaela and Dominic…”

 

“Hm… Can I ask you one more question?”

 

“On top of the eighty-something you just did? Suuuure,” Dominic muttered bitterly.

 

“I don’t suppose you remember every Pokémon you’ve killed?”

 

“Why in hell should I?” he said, although his tone wasn’t as fiery as it ought to have been. Reyes assumed that Alakazam had a problem with the amount of revolutionaries Dominic killed; if so, then he also might have been planning to… Oh, how obvious of such a genius Pokémon! Yet, if Alakazam were to kill Dominic at that moment…why should Reyes have cared? He had been nothing but a pain in the neck and had given him nothing but pains in his bloodstream; he killed many, rebels and revolutionaries and humans, and surely wouldn’t stop at Reyes’ behest. No, the King wasn’t worth saving at all.

 

“I see… Then I have a request for you.” He sat up a little straighter. “Would you perhaps join us, not officially but in aid?”

 

…Is he serious? Arceusdamnit, he’s a rebel! He’s _the King!_ Reyes thought, flabbergasted, and Dominic said it aloud.

 

“I am very aware of what you do, and that’s exactly why I want your help.”

 

“You want me to be some sort of double-agent? You should know, I don’t play that s—”

 

“Shut up?” Reyes told him.

 

“He was talking to me!”

 

“And you sound like an idiot!”

 

“Do not!”

 

“Do so!”

 

“Do—not!”

 

“Do—so!” Alakazam interceded with a soft ringing of his spoons like a tuning fork, although the noise seemed amplified in his meditation room.

 

“I find it smarter for you to leave Blaziken’s side and come to mine, Dominic; the rebels have their power, but they’re truly not going anywhere, and I think that something better should be offered to you considering your…upbringing. Be honest with yourself: do you like what you’re doing now?”

 

“The King likes it,” he said testily; Alakazam raised his eyes to the ceiling for a moment before closing one, looking Dominic up and down.

 

“Be honest with yourself visually,” he said cryptically; Dominic scoffed through his teeth. A slight breeze passed through the sealed room, and although Reyes was standing behind him, he could feel something had changed; his thoughts were confirmed when he moved forward. Dominic had had him under an illusion the entire time, he realized, and maybe everybody else too with their lackluster reactions upon meeting him. He had so many injuries it was far from funny, from his chewed-off ear to claw marks on his muzzle baring some of his teeth to a genuine hole-shaped scar near his heart; one of his claws were broken off to a jagged stump and he was also a living embodiment of the phrase “stab you in the back.” As bad as Reyes thought of the King, he was glad that he did his sort of censorship; that sort of appearance brought on new waves of feelings for him.

 

“Dominic is tired of it all,” he said in a weary voice, sitting down and covering his nose with his claws. “Tired tired tired tired. But what’s the difference? If I join the revolution’ries, then that’s just changin’ my beat-downs to the rebels, and it’ll be worse; they’ll call me a traitor, try to get revenge twen’y-four seven. I jus’…won’t.”

 

“And that’s your final answer?” Alakazam asked, expression blank; Dominic nodded, standing up, and he visually phased back to the appearance Reyes was used to—thank Arceus for that one.

 

“…Was that a test?” Dominic asked all of a sudden, his fur standing on end; with how much he had, it made him look like a medieval flail. “’cause if it was, I have a different answer—”

 

“No, I very much prefer your honesty,” he interrupted. “But there is one more question I’d like to ask of you, then you can be on your way.”

 

“H-Huh?”

 

“Firstly, that was indeed a test, and I’m interested to see how strong your loyalties are; now, to get to the point of all of this…you owe me a very large sum, King.”

 

“What? I don’t have money…” he said. “…Well, I do, but I’ve never lent it to you…I think.”

 

“Not monetary, but metaphorically; I’m referring to the value of a life.”

 

“ _One_ life? I’m sure I’ve killed dozens of revolution’ries…no offense, but yeah, sorry, not sorry.”

 

“But this life matters most to me,” he said, his eyes graver than Reyes had ever seen. Reyes was briefly reminded of why Alakazam became a revolutionary in the first place: a rebel had killed his wife some long years ago—five at best, and the rebellion had been going strong for seven, and Dominic was active for all seven, but he couldn’t have… No, actually, that sounded too much like something that Dominic would do, and that meant—

 

“ _Arceus,_ ” Dominic whispered, and he turned and barreled into Reyes just as an unbelievable amount of pure psychic energy raged through the room; the walls split and plaster disintegrated, causing dirt to spill into the room as the foundation was wrecked, and the floor was torn away and fried with the heat of the energy. Reyes stumbled to his feet to find Dominic’s arms wound around his neck in a vise grip; he wasn’t letting go anytime soon and that was for certain, and he made Reyes a target too.

 

“Get off of me!” Reyes yelled, running past the blown doorway to the stairs.

 

“Nooooo I’m scared,” he whined. “He’s trying to kill me!”

 

“That’s called _karma_! Don’t make him kill me too!” He could barely move without stumbling, and he felt Alakazam’s energy tingling on the back of his neck; he finally grabbed Dominic by the waist and pulled him free just in time to receive a particularly strong bout of Psywave, knocking them to the ground and breaking the staircase down into chunks of rock.

 

“Are we stuck down here?” Dominic asked, eyes wide and glowing in the semidarkness; Reyes gritted his teeth.

 

“Why, now, are you so bearable? Had you been as annoying as you have been since I met you, I’d find this a lot easier…!”

 

“I’m sorry!” he blurted, squeezing his eyes shut. Reyes lurched to his feet and grabbed Dominic’s arm before extending his leaf blades to their full length, stabbing into the ceiling above them without time to worry for whoever was above; it collapsed entirely on them, hopefully slowing Alakazam, and he used his hand to Dig free, covering Dominic’s snout to prevent him from opening his trap and sucking in a mouthful of dirt. He burst through the asphalt and onto the street, seeing a crowd gathering at the tumultuous sounds that originated from the Pokémon Center and its basement—which had both collapsed, he now noticed.

 

“Dominic, are you alright?” Reyes asked, pulling him free and dropping him on the ground; he started coughing up a lung, spitting out clods of mud and clay and wiping it from his eyes.

 

“I’ve been worse,” he sputtered, scratching his tongue clean.

 

“Why did you kill his wife!?”

 

“I never killed no Alakazam’s wife! I would’ve remembered that!” Reyes grabbed his ear angrily.

 

“Come on, you barely even remember which way is left!”

 

“Ow, ow—yeah, but I really would’ve, I swear on Arceus! I really believe that that’s one voice I’ve never heard…” They broke apart as a column of flames burst between them, rising high into the air and singing Reyes’ skin.

 

“He’s so intent on getting to you that he doesn’t care about everybody else!” Reyes shouted at him. “You’ve messed up big-time, Dominic!” More flames were appearing, scattering around them—apparently the first one was just lucky.

 

“Then why are you still here?” he shouted back, clenching his claws. “Why aren’t you going to fight me with your leader, huh? Why are you standing _with_ me instead of _against_ me!?”

 

“Every single damn thing you’ve done so far is inexcusable!” he countered, “and yet I still can’t watch an unwarranted death!”

 

“My death is far from unwarranted,” he said in a low voice, eyes narrowing. “In fact, it’d just be easier for everybody if I gave up now—”

 

“You won’t be giving up—not now, Dominic!” He felt a painful shock of energy run through his skull; concurrently, the revolutionaries around them looked up to something he couldn’t see or hear—Alakazam. In the next second, they dropped whatever they were doing to begin advancing on the two of them; Dominic backed away, glancing at Reyes, but he couldn’t focus on him. The revolutionaries formed a wave to lunge at them, Alakazam still working to free himself from the ground while releasing waves of energy—

 

_—and the dirt quaking beneath his feet stole his focus from the scene ahead. He blinked, rubbing his eyes furiously to clear them as a tight grip appeared on his arm; he was pulled away from the action as Brendan’s Gardevoir, Azalea, led him to the side. Her large scarlet eyes narrowed with worry as she pulled him away just as a humungous ball of red and orange fire slammed into the ground, decimating it until a large crater was left. “Pay more attention, Reyes,” she warned, hiding behind an old Pokémon Mart._

_“I…I’m trying, Lea, but it’s all so…” He covered his ears briefly as a_ boom! _sounded from across Fortree City, felling yet another tree. “…overwhelming!”_

_“Come on! We have to find Brendan!” she urged, grabbing his arms and shaking some sense into him. He covered his eyes for a moment, taking deep, shaky breaths. “You’re the one he trusts most, Reyes; he needs_ you! _”_

_“You…You’re right, you’re right. Thank you, Azalea.” She smiled brilliantly, then she gasped and pulled him to her chest as a bolt of lightning struck feet away from them; he felt his skin get singed from the intense heat, but he could regrow it easily. “I hope…we can both make it through,” he said to Azalea._

_“Me too,” she replied, releasing him; not a second later a Mawile’s huge jaws clamped around her body, her eyes widening in alarm. Reyes grabbed her arms, pulling her back, but the Mawile was like a dog with a bone; she cried in pain, and he realized at that moment that it was smarter to let go of her. The Mawile pulled her away—_

“Reyes, snap out of it!” Dominic shouted, grabbing Reyes’ forearm hard enough to dig scores into his skin.

 

“This is…just like…back then…” His throat was so dry it felt as if it had been razed by Groudon’s claws; his heart was racing and he could barely focus on the scene ahead of him. “Just like…”

 

“Oh, Arceus!” he complained, grabbing both of Reyes’ arms and ramming his head into Reyes’; the pain brought his eyes to Dominic. “Let’s get out of here!” He turned to the others and raised his arms; a wall of hellfire erupted between them and the revolutionaries, burning away Ever Grande’s beautiful buildings and flowers. He pushed Reyes backwards and they started running, heading back to the port.

 

“W…Why are _you_ helping _me_?” Reyes asked.

 

“Because—” He stumbled at the ledges, nearly falling over; Reyes grabbed his arm, steadying him, and he locked his eyes on a speedboat at the pier. “—you’re the first person in a long time to risk yourself for me, and I’m…grateful, Sceptile.” They hopped and skidded down the ledges as the revolutionaries advanced, headed by none other than Alakazam himself.

 

“Reyes, why _you_?” he called, a genuine expression of disappointment on his face. “You’re one of my most passionate revolutionaries, always looking to help the people; why are you _hurting_ them now by aiding this one?”

 

“First of all, we’re the _people’s_ revolutionaries, not yours,” Reyes called back, feeling a bit of his confidence return. “And secondly…I don’t know; I’ve probably just caught his crazy.”

 

“ _Bunch together a group of people deliberately chosen for strong religious feelings, and you have a practical guarantee of dark morbidities expressed in crime, perversion, and insanity,_ ” Dominic said.

 

“I’m sorry, Azalea,” he said to her, “and Louis too, but…” He backed away, stepping onto the pier and untying the speedboat’s knot. Suddenly there was a strong Psychic-type grip on him, not just one but two Pokémon’s energy; he felt himself being lifted, and he probably would’ve been tossed into the water like a rock if Dominic hadn’t grabbed his arm, cancelling the energy transfer. They jumped onto the boat and Dominic immediately fired up the motor; it spat water out angrily as it worked, then they were tearing away from Ever Grande City.

 

 _You won’t get away, Reyes, Dominic,_ Alakazam warned psychically. _It may not be today, may not be tomorrow, may not even be next week, but eventually, we will catch you two, and you will receive the ultimate punishment._

 

“What are you thinking about?” Dominic asked, perplexed; Reyes exhaled slowly.

 

“Alakazam’s last threat. I hate to think of it, but now I’m like you.” He sat down on the bench, clenching his hands to prevent them from shaking; just thinking about the enemies they now had was making him…

 

“Huh?” Reyes raised his head, a wry smile on his face.

 

“We’re both enemies of the world.”


	10. 2.1. Can It Be Real?

“What are you doing?” Reyes asked.

 

“Catching fish!” Dominic replied, leaning off of the shore to glare into the water.

 

“The water has too many rapids for—”

 

“There are fish down there—I feel it in my gut!”

 

“No, that’s the feeling of you being too adamant to eat Berries.”

 

“I’m tellin’ ya!” He finally spotted a Remoraid zipping by and dunked his head under; he not only missed, but it bit his nose too. Reyes sat down on a slick flat rock; the small isle was full of Pokémon, but they seemed to be impassive towards those two, which was relieving considering that the rebels and revolutionaries were after them. Dominic had suggested staying there—there were, after all, plenty of caves, trees, and burrows to sleep comfortably in—but Reyes refused on the grounds of their enemies finding them if they remained in any place too long; as a result, they had been skipping across little islets and small out-of-the-way towns for two weeks, and despite keeping their heads under they were still found after less than forty-two hours each time.

 

“Look, Dominic, the sun is setting and we’ve got to pick a tree or a burrow or something for the night,” Reyes said tiredly, rubbing his face; as he did so, Dominic noticed that the edges of his leaf blades were browning, becoming crispy and breaking away. “Oh, Arceus, this is a pain.”

 

“What, are you expirin’ or somethin’?”

 

“Stress is bad for my system, as I _am_ a plant,” he elaborated. “It should wear off in a few hours.”

 

“Should,” he repeated.

 

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” He started checking the insides of various rocky cliffs while Dominic tried the trees; neither found a vacant space after an hour. When they came together again, Dominic noticed that the sickness was in Reyes’ other set of blades too, although he tried to hide it. How did you help a plant anyway? The Pokémon Center wasn’t an option considering where they were, and although Dominic had a lot of things tucked away in his mane, plant food wasn’t one of them.

 

“Where do we sleep?” Dominic complained.

 

“I’m not… Wait, I’m sure I saw a meadow somewhere.” He pushed forward through some thick shrubbery, which ended in a row of oaks and pines before leading to a virtual sea of green green grass almost as tall as him.

 

“Aren’t there wild Pokémon in here?” Dominic asked, then he sneezed, and sneezed again.

 

“No, because that,” Reyes answered. “The grass is a species that most flesh and blood is allergic to, and from what I’ve heard, Ghost-types don’t like the feel of it. We’ll be safe enough here.” He started stepping on the grass, clearing out a flattened bed of it.

 

“But—” he sneezed again, grabbing his running nose. “I’ll _die!_ ”

 

“On the contrary, this isn’t deadly.”

 

“No, but… Oh!” He pulled a gas mask from his mane and attacked it to his muzzle. “Better!”

 

“I’m sure you didn’t have that when we entered Ever Grande.”

 

“I’m only borrowin’ it; I’ll return it when I’m dead.” He also removed a bright purple sleeping bag and offered it to Reyes.

 

“I’m better sleeping on the grass.” Dominic shrugged and curled up to sleep, but he couldn’t sleep because of how cluttered his mind was. Okay, it usually didn’t matter, and in fact it wouldn’t have mattered some days ago, but it was different now; he was dragging Reyes into his mess now. That even wouldn’t have mattered some days ago—hell, he would’ve _wished_ he could turn the revolutionaries all helter-skelter—but Reyes was different than just some revolutionaries; even knowing about him, Reyes went all the way with him and even betrayed his friends. For what? For a split-personality, twisted bastard of a Zoroark? There was a time that he thought he was the only one that could hear the voices of Hell; now, Reyes was close to that line too.

 

“Reyes…can you go?”

 

“You’re conscious of me sleeping with you,” he said dubiously; Dominic retreated slightly into his sleeping bag.

 

“No… I want you to go back and tell Alakazam that you were under my illusion; he’s likely to take you back.” He heard Reyes roll over to look at the back of his head.

 

“I don’t understand you; why is it that now, _now_ , you seem to have a heart?”

 

“I have a heart; it’s just not as carin’ as yours looks,” he murmured, remembering the first time he said that. “That’s right…it’s more carin’, believe it or not.” He sat up, staring at the sun disappearing from the sky. “I knew what it was like to be loved, but I also knew what it was like to be hated; it’s this kind of…curse within Dark-types. There’s darkness within us, all of us, and some of us never get over it; some of us are always just that darkness within us. That darkness takes anythin’ and everythin’ it can from ‘round you and it twists it and rots it until there’s nothin’ left for you to have.” He closed his eyes, covering his muzzle with his claws. “I’m a bad guy I’m a bad guy—”

 

“Do you remember that little girl from Slateport, the one with the Frisbee?” Reyes asked all of a sudden.

 

“W-Why?” Dominic sniffled.

 

“You didn’t kill her, nor did you break her Frisbee or attack her Mudkip.”

 

“I… You told me to return it…”

 

“And since when have you ever listened to me?”

 

“I…dunno…”

 

“You had a family, Dominic, and you’ve honestly said that you loved them… Why do you hate humans now?”

 

“I don’t…hate…humans,” he murmured. “I hate what I do to them ev’ry. Freakin’. Time.” He remembered Ali, then Steven, and even those two guys from Rustboro; every time he dealt with humans they died, and he just didn’t think…that the world should lose so much, especially in those times. “The King, he hates humans though; he thinks that they’ve made him… _us_ weak. He’s this big impossible insurmountable monster, because-because how do you beat your own mind? But I’ve given up at this point; I know I can’t be saved, so I’d rather that you save yerself.”

 

“Hah… Maybe you can’t be saved, and maybe it’s smarter that I save myself, but at this point it’s clear that I’ve abandoned logic.” Dominic looked over his shoulder and saw Reyes sitting up, a smirk on his face. “You’re an insane, twisted bastard and you kill when I don’t want you to and you make stupid choices and you’re more likely than not wasting precious oxygen and sustenance with your very presence…but.”

 

“But?” Reyes looked skyward.

 

“Well… There was once a time that Lilly, my mate, found a beached Wailmer; it was the runt of its litter and so sick that it was dying, but she didn’t hesitate to spend hours going on days taking care of him. In the end, he did die, and I asked why she tried to help even though he was surely going to die; she told me something that I’ve forgotten until I met you—she told me that Arceus does what it does for our sakes, so even though it seemed pointless to take care of the Wailmer, it washed up at our home so she did all she could to help. I used to think it was more of her good nature than something by Arceus, and although I still find divine intervention to be a total load, she was right about the rest: there’s a purpose in our meeting, Dominic, you as a rebel killer and me as a revolutionary peacekeeper.”

 

“So…you think there’s a good reason for this?”

 

“What? In complete Hell, no; you’ve taken me away from all I’ve known and what I could have been, but you know what? The King can rot in Hell for all I care, but Dominic is a decent kid; if only you could be two people…”

 

“I can be two people!” he exclaimed. “Hi, I’m Reyes and I’m a total anus!”

 

“Number one, you’re still you; number two, that’s not funny.”

 

“Haha…hahaha…” He started laughing, rolling on his back and clenching his stomach. “Haha! Hahahaha!” He was laughing so hard tears were staining his fur and he was rolling all over the grass and getting dirt in his mane and it felt like he was dropping things too—

 

“What’s this?” Reyes asked, taking up a photograph.

 

“H-hah?” Dominic wiped his eyes. “Oh, yeah, that’s my parents—you know, when they were cubs.”

 

“Mm… I remembered you said that your name is Rex.”

 

“Y…Yeah, damn Alakazam.” He shuddered. “Yet I’ve dealt with worse.” He wiggled into his sleeping bag and closed his eyes.

 

——————

 

He didn’t remember until it was too late, the effect he had when sleeping too close to others. He woke up because he heard some noise and turned over to see Reyes’ face twisted in a nightmare, tears falling down his face; Dominic sat up, amazed, then annoyed with himself. He always brought out the dark of people’s hearts, and being irascible made it bad enough to elicit painful nightmares; he remembered it happening to Steven’s Pokémon, and even Ali because of his father. “Sorry,” he muttered, taking up his sleeping bag and sifting through the grass to sleep a couple dozen feet away, except he couldn’t really get back to sleep because the night had reached its peak.

 

“I wonder…how Wallace is doing…” he muttered dreamily, staring at the sky. Wallace was the Hoenn Pokémon League Champion after Steven… Back then, when the rebels hadn’t caused too much damage overall, people still believed that things could blow over and go back to normal once the Trainers and police force won out; obviously, they never did, and Dominic often wondered what became of the League.

 

He rolled on his side and noticed a pair of small Zigzagoon sleeping together in the grass; they looked a little cute, and that wasn’t a word he threw around too often. He realized that they weren’t sleeping a moment later when the female began giggling, then they started romantically sleeping together, and as much as he enjoyed a good show involving quills and the Pokémon equivalent of dirty talk, he had to move away before he threw up in his mouth. He barely even closed his eyes before a voice pierced his thoughts: “What would Blaziken think of all of this?”

 

“Be quiet, you,” Dominic muttered, squeezing his eyes shut tighter; even so, his mind’s eye perceived the perfect illusion of himself irritatingly known as the King. The King crossed his arms over his chest, annoyed at Dominic’s attitude, and kicked his side; Dominic still refused to respond until the King pushed him hard enough to send him rolling across the dirt, muddying his fur. “Hey!”

 

“I asked you a question and I expect it to be answered,” he said in a tense voice; Dominic exhaled through his nose.

 

“He’d kill me.”

  
“So you’re suddenly unafraid of him? because the last time you defied him, he gave you that pretty hole in your chest.” He pointed at the invisible scar on Dominic’s chest; years later, his lungs still had burn marks.

 

“No… I’m takin’ this all one step at a time.”

 

“And why!? Just get rid of that guy. Here—” Dominic opened his eyes and saw Reyes lying a dozen feet away; the King smirked as he raked his claws over Reyes’ cheek light enough to be unnoticeable. “I can even help.”

 

“No! Don’t do that!” Dominic shouted, grabbing his arm; the King pulled away, repulsed.

 

“You’re a killer, Dominic; you’re not meant to have friends, nobody except me.”

 

“You’re not my friend, you’re jus’ a huge bully that finds his happiness in takin’ ‘way mines,” he muttered.

 

“I reiterate, you’re a _killer_ ; you don’t even deserve to be happy. This guy right here is a traitor to my agenda and his own affiliation; hell…” He laid his claws down on Reyes’ throat, ears pricked attentively. “His heartbeat, even, is an insult to me.”

 

“Don’t! If you do that, then I’ll—” The King looked at him, already aware of Dominic’s first, second, and third and even thousandth thoughts.

 

“I wish you would kill yourself, Dominic; I’d just plague you in Hell.”

 

“I’d rather…you were trapped in Hell…than up here.”

 

“Oh, because I’m such a _danger_ , right?” he sneered, releasing Reyes and waving his claws in irritation. “Because I’m the _killer_? Well, I can remember a lot of times that _Dominic_ killed.”

 

“That’s… That’s…”

 

“That’s what, _different_?” he accused. “You’re no different from yourself ten years ago! You’re just a beast that causes death for those you know and those you don’t know. I wish you would kill yourself; the world would rest easy if you did.” He came closer and grasped Dominic’s neck, his claws digging into the soft skin beneath his fur; blood soaked into his carefully-brushed fluff and ran down his arms.

 

“You’ve never let me off that easily.”

 

“Because I don’t like people doing their own thing. I am the King; I’m the one that says when to jump, when to speak, when to run.” He removed one of his claws to lick it slowly, clearing it of blood, and smiled maliciously. “When you finally want to end it all, ask the King; he will gladly shear this troublesome head from your shoulders.”

 

Dominic opened his eyes, and with a tired breath, he realized that it was only a dream; of course it was, since the King wasn’t very real.

 

He rolled onto his side and got a face full of mud; one sniff confirmed that the dirt was moistened by his own blood, and a lot of it. He wanted to be bothered by it but, hell, he didn’t have that much motivation left to live; Dominic just closed his eyes again without even a prayer.

 

…

 

“No…I’m a terrible terrible bastard,” he decided, sitting up. “I’m just talk…” He felt the grass blades around him but they were too thin; against his better judgement he walked over to Reyes and pulled away one of his leaf blades. He was too fast to wake up and hold his blades to Dominic’s throat; Dominic just grunted and pushed him away. “Quit playin’, Reyes.”

 

“Wait, what?” he said, perplexed; Dominic ignored that, tying his leaf around his neck to cover the wound. “How did you stop me?”

 

“I pushed you?”

 

“No… That was reflex; it’s hard to counter reflex that quickly and easily.”

 

“You can’t underestimate me,” he sighed. “I know I sound like kinda a dumb guy, and maybe I am, but I like playin’ around, which the King hates; ‘cause of that, I look weaker than I am. Like, for example, Zoroark are known for speed.” Without Reyes seeing a thing, Dominic took one of the seed pods from his back. “And especially now, ‘cause it’s nighttime; at night with a Zoroark, yer pretty much dead. You’d have to be, I dunno, _god_ to stop one of us.”

 

“Too bad I’m just a Reyes.”

 

“Yeah…and too bad I’m jus’ a Dominic.” He took a bite of Reyes’ seed pod; it tasted just as horrible as the first time, but it relieved some of his lightheadedness. “You can go back to sleep.”

 

“It’s alright; I don’t need that much sleep,” he said. “Soldier’s thing.”

 

“Ah…I wouldn’t know ‘bout that—oh wait, I do now ‘cause you drag me to all hell durin’ daytime, which is when I’m used to snoozin’.”

 

“Don’t be a crybaby.” They were silent for a long time; there seemed to be a lot of silences between them.

 

“Where do we go after this?”

 

“I’ve no damn clue.”

 

He took another bite even though the seeds were starting to make him physically ill. “I might.”

 

“You might what?”

 

“I might have a clue…where to go.”

 

“Really? Where?” He sounded half-dubious, but mostly he was curious; Dominic mulled it over.

 

“Well…”

 

“…?”

 

“Okay, um, the guy that taught me how to kill people maybe?” This time, Reyes gave him an eight-second look of _Are you damn stupid or what?_ “Okay, I know it sounds a li’l crazy, but hell, it’s somethin’.”

 

“Yeah, it’s somethin’ _stupid_ ,” Reyes said. “Let’s file that away as Plan Z-1000.”

 

“Okay…what if, um, I knew a Legendary Pokémon?”

 

“I’d say that even if you weren’t totally lying to me at this moment, the Legendaries haven’t exactly been helpful these last seven years.”

 

“Oi, you’re not a lie detector.” He took one more bite before he was too nauseas to stand it anymore and tossed the pod far far away. “Mm, let’s see… Can’t we go to Sootopolis?”

 

“I’m not as welcome there as you are; hell, I don’t think _you’re_ very welcome there in the first place.”

 

“Oi, you’re not a mind reader either…but yeah, you’re sorta right.” He reached into his mane and took out his cellphone; Reyes immediately pulled a face, which he expected at this point.

 

“Where did you get that anyway?”

 

“Blaziken,” he answered. “It’s how we communicate—not that I listen to what he says very often.” He checked his messages and grimaced. “I’ve got twelve alerts about… well, ya know.”

 

“I’m guessing they’re pretty pissed off at you.”

 

“What?” Dominic was distracted by a certain text message.

 

“The rebels; I’m guessing that they’re pretty pissed off at you.”

 

“…Oh.”

 

“Oh? What does that mean?”

 

“It’s a sound of surprise—” Reyes beat him with the flat of his hand. “Ouch! I’m sorry… The Elite Four is movin’.”

 

“What?”

 

“They’re, um, four Pokémon from each of the old Elite Four,” he explained. “I always thought they were kinda funny; like, five out of six Pokémon are revolution’ries, what happened to those last ones? But, uh, I digress; usually they hang around Sootopolis not really doin’ nothin’ more than botherin’ ol’ Pokémon about their ol’ troubles, but now they’re out…and around…for me.”

 

“Because you’re with me?”

 

“Well, they’ve been pissed at me for the better part of three years—don’t ask why—so for them, this is the perfect excuse to chop mah head off.” He turned off his cellphone and curled up on his side.

 

“Dominic?” Reyes asked; he whinnied in complaint.

 

“Just… I wanna sleep for a while.”

 

“Are they that great as opponents?”

 

“N-Nah, it’s not that… I’ll tell you in the morning…”

 

“Dominic!”

 

“I’m sorry, but there are things even _I’m_ uncomfortable with! Goodnight!”

 

“Damn freak,” Reyes muttered.

 

“Coming from you, that doesn’t hurt quite as much…”


	11. 2.2. Confirmation To Love

Of course, Dominic couldn’t really sleep through the night, and only when the sun rose could he finally slip into real sleep, however Reyes spurred him back to life to keep moving. “Nooo!” he wailed, waving his claws threateningly.

 

“Arceus, we don’t have time for this Dominic; every second we spend here is getting us closer to capture,” he hissed, wrapping his arms around Dominic’s chest to pull him up; he shouted and kicked and threw a fit, but Reyes was strong enough to keep hold and smart enough to avoid eye contact.

 

“W-Wait, lemme go! I hear somethin’!”

 

“Really?”

 

“I swear!” Reyes dropped him, causing Dominic to fall on his back; he raised his head and noticed that Reyes’ leaf blades hadn’t healed at all, and were in fact half-eaten away. “You can’t fight with those.”

 

“I don’t need to; I have an entire repertoire of tricks up my proverbial sleeve.” He said that, but he looked tired too, and not just because he didn’t sleep that much. He felt his fur bristle as something big grew near, but he couldn’t see anything; maybe it was a Kecleon, or maybe it was some bird flying really high. Or maybe—

 

The ocean itself quaked, then he saw several blue runes glow vibrantly beneath the surface; the sheer strength and size of the Pokémon had him reeling and he was certain that it hadn’t even grown within one hundred feet of them. He grabbed Reyes’ arms and dragged him back from the shore, then he put up a camouflaging illusion around the both of them. “What are you doing?” Reyes demanded; he didn’t even have the strength to sound angry at Dominic, which meant that the situation was pretty damn dire.

 

“There’s somethin’ real big ‘n’ dangerous down there—”

 

“What, someone of your family?”

 

“Hah, but no.” His illusion flickered, which he felt before he saw. Aw, damn it, he thought; I don’t have any energy left. If only that damn Reyes had given me some meat!

 

That thing finally surfaced, and the sight of it took Dominic’s breath away. It was Kyogre, it had to be; Dominic didn’t have a PokéDex memory, but hell, it was the same size, had the same marks—if it looked like a Ducklett, quacked like a Ducklett, smelled like a Ducklett, tasted like a Ducklett, it sure as hell wasn’t a Pidgey…mm, he was making himself hungrier with that crap. That Kyogre looked at them with glowing blue eyes, and Dominic damn near pissed himself when he thought that it was all over, then he hated himself for fearing death, but that was more of a reflex and pretty damn unimportant—

 

That Kyogre’s mouth opened, and out came a Gabite; it looked normal, but hell, it couldn’t have been…? The Kyogre beached itself, then before their eyes it shifted from a massive behemoth of a Pokémon into a tiny tiny Ditto, then that Ditto shifted again into a Raichu. Dominic couldn’t believe it; he had never—not once—heard of a Ditty able to turn into a Legendary Pokémon. The two new Pokémon looked around curiously but Dominic’s illusion barely held, masking their energy and scent.

 

“I thought you sensed them here,” the Ditto said to the Gabite; he growled in response.

 

“I know I did; they must be hiding somewhere. I’m not going to miss that bounty on their heads, Azure.”

 

“Bounty hunters,” Dominic said. “We have those too?”

 

“In this world,” Reyes muttered, “anything is possible.”

 

“Wait,” Azure said. “Gabriel, I said wait!” The Gabite stopped and turned around; Azure looked around, then he reverted into a Ditto before turning into a Zoroark, which made Dominic doubly nervous. He sniffed the air, taking a few steps away from Dominic and Reyes, giving him a false sense of hope before Azure flashed back and cut right through Dominic’s illusion and into his chest; Dominic felt blood build in his windpipe from the injury and kicked Azure away. “They were just hiding,” he said, turning back into a Ditto.

 

“Y-You bastards,” Dominic coughed, feeling dizzy from loss of blood; his reflexes had saved him from organ injury, which was great, but Azure damaged an artery and some ribs by the feel of it. “Yer not takin’ us…no way no how.”

 

“You’re in no condition to protest,” Gabriel said, knocking Dominic aside; he fell down on his back and couldn’t sit up again with the pain and bleeding in his chest, and the sunlight only made it worse. He stood against Reyes, who was still weakened, and the two sized each other up; Dominic realized how alike they were in terms of aura. “Reyes the Sceptile… How far thou hath fallen,” he said derisively. “Not that I care one way or another about this revolution, but the last time I checked, you seemed highly focused on helping the _revolutionaries_.”

 

“Things change,” Reyes said derisively. “I’ve heard of you too; you’re very thorough in beating your bounties within an inch of their life.”

 

“So you want a demonstration?” Gabriel cracked his knuckles; Dominic clenched his fist and went to root through his fur, but Azure turned into a Makuhita and stepped on his wrist.

 

“Yer real pow’rful for a paint splatt’r,” Dominic said to it.

 

“Oh, haven’t heard that one before.” And for a paint splatter, Azure was annoyingly chipper.

 

“Bastard! If ya had eyes—”

 

“You’d claw them out, then you’d rip off my arms and beat me with them and ruin my reproductive system,” it finished in that same bright tone. “Those, I’ve heard already; I’m not that popular, y’know.”

 

“Hard to believe.”

 

“It is,” it agreed sincerely. Okay, that Ditto was a moron…well, ironically, now he knew Reyes’ pain. The moral of the story, however, was that the two of them were now in a very tight spot; Dominic was semi-incapacitated and Reyes was freaking wilting. If he could reach the Potion in his mane (that he BORROWED from the revolutionaries—wait, why did he care? They were trying to kill them anyway) he could at least stop the bleeding, which was getting worse with the sun frying the edges of the wound; he couldn’t heal naturally like that, even if he used Recover or something.

 

_DOMMY DOM I KNOW WHAT YOU CAN DO_

 

Dominic squeezed his eyes shut, fearing what surely was inevitable; the King could just burn them away with hellfire, but he’d burn Reyes away too, and no matter what, he couldn’t let that happen. Okay, okay, time to think… He could use another illusion, but he was too weak to make a strong one; that Gabriel guy didn’t look like the type to fall for parlor tricks, and Azure could’ve just turned back into a Zoroark and break it again. He didn’t have much left in the physical department either, what with his lungs oozing out of his ribcage and all; that took a lot from his repertoire, but he still had a mane full of junk. Okay, okay, time to think harder, he thought. What’s in my mane?

 

…

 

_Perfect!_

 

He rolled onto his side and, grimacing internally at what he was about to do, Crunched Azure’s leg; it jumped back, startled, and kept jumping and stomping when Dominic didn’t let go. His arms were freed, but that wouldn’t mean anything if he was crushed under foot like a rogue Bug-type; he grabbed Azure’s thick leg and, digging his heel in the dirt, gathered all of the energy he could to push it backwards and down, emitting darkness as he went to strengthen his attack. A Dark-type was at a disadvantage with a Fighting-type, but that old Professor sure as hell wasn’t thinking of Dominic when he programmed _that_ into his little DS!

 

“Buhaaah!” Azure grunted, flopping on his back; unlike the rest of its body, those particular muscles weren’t strong, making it look like a beached Wailmer. Dominic almost had a good laugh before the air dispelled behind him; he swerved out of the way as Gabriel’s claws came flashing by lightning-quick.

 

“I hate haircuts,” Dominic told him, taking out his cellphone; Gabriel was unamused, baring his claws and lunging forward. Now, Dominic wasn’t a genius like Reyes, but when it came to finding weaknesses, his predatory nature made that too easy—well, he was better with a full body of blood, but nitpicks nitpicks. Gabite are Ground-type Pokémon, he thought, dancing just out of Gabriel’s reach again; it wasn’t nearly as easy as he made it look since even though he was faster than Gabriel naturally, he was still dizzy and starting to see double actually… _But_ Ground-types were highly attuned to sound—more specifically, _vibrations_ of sound; they had to be to move as well as they did beneath the surface. So, a little tweaking, a little more dodging, a little bit of searching his playlist and—

 

 “Yes!” he cried in excitement as a heavy metal rendition of Sleep My Caterpie blasted from his phone. “I love this one!”

 

Gabriel didn’t share his sentiments; the volume and vibrations of the song had him on his knees in pain, struggling to dig beneath the grass; Dominic kicked him down, music still blaring, then gave him a knockout blow on the back of his head. Dominic wanted to celebrate—it had been a _long_ time since he fought and not he-who-shall-not-be-named-nor-even-acknowledged-even-though-he-in-question-was-a-figment-of-Dominic’s-Dark--type-psyche—but Reyes was pretty much dying behind him so…

 

“Need some help?” Dominic grinned, offering his claws.

 

“Damn you and your help,” Reyes grumbled in response, but he took the offer anyway; it didn’t look like he could stand up by himself in any case, and even when he did his legs shook slightly as they started browning too.

 

“How do I fix this?”

 

“The sun will work,” he said almost obstinately.

 

“Photosynthesis? But you need, like, food ‘n’ water?” Reyes didn’t respond, then he clenched his jaw and pushed Dominic backwards until he fell on his back; half a second later, a big purple blob splattered all over him. Dominic thought that that old paint splatter came back for a second round, then he realized that it was a different color, kind of like a… “Arceus,” he swore, jumping backwards; it was a Grimer—and it was seeping poison all over Reyes!

 

“Gotta admit, you were pretty smart to get me on my back,” Azure said, its voice sounding bubbly and disgusting. “I know I’m not too much of a genius—sorta a side effect of my brain cells being all over the place—but I came up with my own idea: pickin’ off the weaker guy.” Reyes fell over, Azure slopping its goopy body all over his; as a plant, that had to be twice as bad as normal.

 

“Oi…get offa him,” Dominic growled, fur bristling; one of Azure’s bubbles popped just slowly enough to be obnoxious. What could get that thing away? …Well, he had an idea, but it was kind of farfetched—actually, that worked perfectly for him. In his state, Dominic did a pretty pathetic Flamethrower, but still, the embers set the noxious gas Azure was releasing on fire; the little blasts connected one after another until it caught on fire. It quickly detached from Reyes, splattering on the ground and killing the grass and flowers instantly; Dominic took a car’s antenna (that was also borrowed from the revolutionaries—and yes, he was petty enough to deprive them of their usual jams and radio stars’ rants; they turned on Reyes for no reason, so it would have just been _criminal_ of him _not_ to get a little bit of retribution) from his mane and, electrifying it with Hidden Power, stabbed it into Azure’s body. It cried weakly before turning back into a Ditto, the shocks surging through its plasmatic body, then it fell limp like a big wad of pink bubblegum; the thought made him a little hungry but mostly sick.

 

“…Reyes?” he asked tentatively, poking Reyes with the antenna; his green skin was tinted purple from Poisoning and he was sweating chlorophyll. “Okay, you need a Pokémon Center.”

 

“Ya…think?” he said between breaths, pushing himself up with his arms; Dominic tried to touch him but Reyes fended him off. “You’ll…you’ll get Poisoned too…”

 

“But I can’t help ya otherwise!”

 

“An…tidote…”

 

“That’s the one thing I didn’t steal… I didn’t think we’d need it!” he said in response to Reyes’ expression. “Yeah, yeah, I know, ‘Smart move bastard.’” He offered his claws again. “But I’m not gonna leave you here; we fight together, we stay together, y’know?”

 

“I appreciate…sentiment, but if you…get Poisoned…chances are…just die here,” he said frankly; Dominic winced. “Go…to mainland…get Antidote…’n’ come back…”

 

“I got you!” Dominic started to turn around but stopped, fur bristling. Did Reyes really entrust his life to Dominic, who tried to kill him repeatedly? He couldn’t believe it! Then again, a life-or-death situation could make anybody desperate. “No, wait,” Dominic told him. “I can’t just leave you here like this…” He tried to make another illusion, but his injury still bothered him; he had to regain his energy before he could do anything else. Dominic took a deep breath and left Reyes there to venture further on the islet.

 

——————

 

Dominic trudged through a small but thick forest near the center of the islet, his healing accelerated by the large trees blocking sunlight; although that did help one problem, he still needed food and, to a lesser extent, fresh water. Because he was so used to catching his prey he couldn’t tell a milkweed from a weed weed, which ruled out eating any plants; there was also a great lack of ripe Berries due to the abundance of foragers in the area. He followed the trees forward until he noticed their roots spreading out less and less; from his limited knowledge of plants, that meant that there was more water nearby. After what felt like eons, he reached a pond in a clearing with little Magikarp and Feebas and Linoone and Poochyena and Arceus was he drooling as much as he thought he was?

 

It took maybe two minutes for him to eat his fill, and when his stomach was nearly full he drank the clean water until he was sure he wouldn’t need to eat for the next week or so. He dug around in his mane for a little until he found a couple of Potions; they healed his wounds into ruddy scar tissue, and he could use the empty containers to hold water! He gathered as much water and close-to-ripe Berries as he could before jogging back the way he came, working not to trip over any roots even though he was spilling water with every step he took.

 

It took him less time to make it back to the shore, but Reyes looked like he had not very much life left; his seed pods had fallen off and shriveled and he was barely breathing. Dominic tried to get him to eat and drink but he refused, his unfocused gaze landing on the sparkling ocean. “I can…barely…talk…swallow…no…” he whispered.

 

My fault, Dominic thought, dropping on his knees. It’s my fault all over again. Reyes was the first guy to care about me…the first guy to care about me in _years_ …and because of that he’ll die as an enemy of the world.

 

“Guh,” Azure groaned; Dominic had no idea that it was still alive. It gathered itself back into that stupidly resilient blob form and spat a wad of red plasma onto the grass. “That sure hurt…” It looked at Dominic and blinked its tiny black eyes. “That face you’re making is—” It didn’t get to finish before Dominic grabbed hold of it; it tried to squirm free, but every time Dominic grabbed hold again. “Dude, just chill,” it said; Dominic released it then and, walking over to its friend Gabriel, grabbed hold of his dorsal fin and ripped it off in one move. Gabriel groaned in pain, crimson stains appearing beneath his tough hide, but Dominic tore it away as easily as if it was grass…like Reyes. “No! Gabriel!” it cried, Transforming; Dominic pulled away from Gabriel at record speed, even by Zoroark standards, and grabbed Azure’s still-forming arm.

 

“Ack! Leggo!” Azure yelled, unable to revert the arm as long as Dominic held onto it; he clenched his claws, tearing away the soft pink skin and small feathers that it was forming and causing its thick blood to stain the ground too. He heard Gabriel staggering behind him and swept to the side in time to avoid his heavy claws; without his fin he lacked balance, making his attacks rely on dumb luck and too much strength. He exerted his powerful Dragon-type energy and lashed at Dominic; he repelled Gabriel’s claws easily with his Dark-type energy and pushed him away, then he coated his own claws in Ghost-type energy and stabbed them into Azure, whose partial Flying-type made it vulnerable. The energy coated its body and stole away its very life force.

 

“Azure!” Gabriel shouted, trying with even more fury to hit Dominic. “Why—can’t—I—touch you—say—some—thing—al—ready—!” Dominic grabbed Gabriel’s left claws, then his right when he attacked again, and leaned in close enough that he could count his scales; he watched the defiant look in Gabriel’s eyes slowly morph into fear, his breath quickening at the thought of the inevitable. For the first time since Rustboro, the maelstrom of voices in his mind ceased; Dominic slowly reached up and took out his earplugs, letting him hear the full extent of Gabite’s shouts.

 

He left the remains somewhere out of plain sight and returned to Reyes; he was barely conscious now, eyes closed. Dominic used his scale-covered claws to pull Reyes’ mouth open and forced him to swallow some water and a few Berries; he started gagging, nearly choking, but it made the way down. He rolled onto his side as the holes where his pods were started blooming with little flowers; they opened up to the sun and his skin lightened a few shades. “Ugh…thank…” he croaked tiredly; Dominic closed Reyes’ mouth and nodded silently. He took Reyes’ arm and slung him over his back, then he started trudging to their boat; the closest city was Sootopolis—not that Dominic could go there after all of that hoo-hah—but they could make it to Mossdeep with a little luck. He rested Reyes carefully in the boat and climbed in front of the engine; the sound of it was maddening.

 

“You’re so…all of a sudden…” Reyes was muttering, adjusting himself so that his back was propped up against the bench. “So quiet…when I finally…want you to talk…”

 

“…” He just looked at the water as the boat cut through it.

 

“Domi…nic…”

 

He hadn’t felt like that in what felt like eons; the closest he came to that kind of anger was in…Rustboro… “…I’m sorry.”

 

“For what?”

 

“Ev’rythin’.” Reyes didn’t respond, just focused on his breathing and the fish swimming beneath the water’s surface. Dominic hadn’t realized it before, but Reyes was a pretty damn good guy—better than somebody like Dominic deserved anyway. It took him a while, but Dominic managed to voice his sentiment, then, “I’ve been bouncin’ around cities for the longest time; jus’ Mauville, I was there fer maybe two months, and even if you hadn’t shown up I would’a left ‘nyway. Now, this’s what happens when I finally find a place to be… But you don’t think so, huh.”

 

“…”

 

“Those Elite Four guys, they’re serious business,” he continued. “I’m not a killer, _they’re_ killers, each of ‘em, and each of them are twice as strong as me. If those guys’re serious, they’ll get us in an interdimensional second.”

 

“Ah…”

 

“I dunno how we’ll pull this off,” Dominic muttered. “B…But we’ll do it; yeah, we’ll do it, ‘cause together, we’re…”

 

“Enemies of…the world,” he finished.

 

“Yeah, but the good kind.” Reyes made a derisive sound. “What? I mean, we are.” Again, there was silence. “I don’t know much about ya.”

 

“Doesn’t…matter…”

 

“I mean, well, I poured my heart out to ya before.” Reyes’ head rolled to the side but it was entirely voluntary.

 

“It’s not…not a good…story… I wa…was once…like…you.”

 

“What? You were like me?” Reyes closed his eyes.

 

“Didn’t give a damn…about my life…” Dominic looked at the sky; the sun was still hot enough to make his skin tingle, so it should’ve been making Reyes better, at least gradually. Dominic tried to get him to drink some more water but Reyes just choked on it; that alone put the Berries out of the equation. He suddenly doubled over with a coughing fit, and when he straightened up Dominic could see bright green chlorophyll laced with purple in his hands; he doubled over again over the side of the boat, this time to throw up. Dominic quickly sat down next to the engine, gunning it; the dark spread of water of Sootopolis City was right next to them, but Dominic wasn’t going to risk his life sneaking past The Gate.

 

The Gate was sort of like the psychic barrier around Ever Grande City, but worse. Instead of Psychic-types, the thing was maintained by Dark-type energy; just stepping next to it would put you in your own Hell of each and every fear that’s haunted you since infancy. The first time he went there he couldn’t really tell the darkness from any old patch of black; he walked right through it and was completely bedridden for three days reliving the same exact nightmare. Hah, Arceus _forbid_ he take his chances _again_! Dominic may have been slow to the point, but he wasn’t dumb enough to do that, not for all of the meat in the world.

 

“We’ll make it, we will,” Dominic muttered, more to himself than Reyes, who was pretty much dying before his eyes. Dominic took a flyswatter from his mane and slapped Reyes with it. “Wake up! Wake up up up!” Reyes still didn’t wake up. Dominic ditched the swatter and grabbed his shoulders, ignoring the burning sensation of poison on his skin. “WAKE UP!” he shouted, shaking him hard enough that his head flipped back and forth. He eventually hissed and withdrew his claws; although he wasn’t as severely effected as a Grass-type, the poison had burned away the fur and skin on his hands, causing them to bleed out and most likely giving him more than a few infections.

 

“…nic…” Dominic aimed his ears forward, trying to catch Reyes’ quiet voice. “T…Tell Aza…I’m sorry…I didn’t me…to… And if you…you ever see…Lil’…I’m sorry too…”

 

“No…no…” Dominic hadn’t felt sadness in a long time, so the weird caving-in feeling in his chest confused him. “You’ll tell ‘em yourself, Reyes! Trust me!”

 

“Funny…” he coughed. “A while ago…I wouldn’t have…”

 

“Reyes… Reyes!” Dominic started growling, fur bristling as he clenched his fists; he hated to do it but he decked Reyes in the face, watching his head go from side to side with no response. He stopped after what seemed like forever, his bloody and completely burnt; Reyes wasn’t moving at all. Physically and mentally numb to pain, Dominic looked out to the horizon; he could see the Mossdeep Space Center, which meant that they were close, but what good would that do them now? He slumped over the side of the both, feeling defeated; it took him maybe three seconds to notice the glowing red eye beneath the surface.

 

“Sur…prise,” Sharpedo said before it leapt on him.


	12. 2.3. No Game, No Restarts

Everything was hazy, but Reyes remembered what he did see well enough. They were attacked on one of the islands near Sootopolis City by the two bounty hunters, that Ditto and Gabite, and he was Poisoned… Dominic tried to save him too, which was very surprising; Reyes had no idea that Dominic had the capacity to care since he had shown little to none of that, but he soon realized that Dominic could more than care…he could cry too.

 

He drifted in and out of consciousness, the poison making quick work of his plant-like system; he most likely would’ve died faster had Dominic not tried as hard as he did. Dominic’s eyes went wide and glassy as his mind faded back to the past; it reminded Reyes that Dominic hadn’t only seen him in that condition, but dozens and maybe hundreds of other Pokémon and humans, most likely caused by his own claws. Then the situation fully struck Dominic, and…well, Reyes meant it when he said that he wouldn’t kill a kid, but to him, the worse thing in the world was seeing that sort of profound sadness on _any_ kid, even if that kid was a killer.

 

He was startled by the sound of Dominic’s shouts and the boat rocking hard from side to side, but he couldn’t move or even open his eyes; he had to gather information by listening instead. Dominic was being attacked, although it didn’t sound like the two from the island; there was the sound of flesh ripping, then a loud splashing sound. The boat rocked again as Dominic clambered over Reyes’ body, knocking the breath from his lungs, and then something large and wet and heavy slammed into both of them; the boat overturned right after, dumping them into the water.

 

He gasped, feeling water fill his lungs instead of air; he couldn’t even cough with his muscles being numb and paralyzed, and so he just sunk. He felt the water around him displace in rapid intervals as the Pokémon and Dominic went by, but it never touched him, not once. He felt the world slipping away from him again, but this time there was a familiar face watching him go down…

 

——————

 

_“Ugh, that beepin’…pissin’ me off…”_

 

Reyes could feel his body again, but that didn’t mean he could move it; it was a really big shame too, because there was an annoying beeping sound that was giving him the mother of all migraines… He gasped and opened his eyes in a rush, remembering everything that happened; aside from a lingering soreness in every movable part of his body, he was okay—more than that, he was still alive. He turned his head as best he could and saw that he was in a Pokémon Center room—if he had to guess, in Mossdeep; he was lying on a bed with water being transferred intravenously into his wrist, and the beeping noise was coming from a heart monitor. Honestly, it was pissing him off—

 

Wait, didn’t somebody else say that?

 

A Chansey bustled through the door, startling him slightly; she looked unfamiliar, but then again most of them preferred not to express their individuality. He followed her with his eyes as she methodically adjusted things here and there, checked readings, tidied this and that, and it was when she was refilling the water supply that her eyes met his; she gasped in surprise as he grimaced. “I’ve never thought myself as so hard to notice,” he said.

 

“I apologize,” she said in a timid voice, nearly dropping the bottle of water she was using for the water supply. “How do you feel?”

 

“Hurts,” he said through his teeth. “Everywhere.”

 

“Well, you did just recover from bad Poisoning alongside other injuries,” she pointed out as she set a wooden bowl of some sort of soup on the nightstand. “This will help with the pain, but please only drink it when you’re sure you have the strength to.”

 

“You could’ve just…you know…” He weakly pointed to the IV bag.

 

 “This is better when eaten.” She finished checking up on things and started to leave.

 

“Wait. Did you find another Pokémon with me?”

 

“Another Pokémon?” she repeated, confused. “No? You just washed up on the shore; you were alone unless you want to count the remains of a boat. Did you have somebody with you?”

 

“No, I was just wondering,” he sighed, closing his eyes as the door shut. Dominic was gone; the issue was whether that was good or bad. Good, he had saved himself and went off to sulk somewhere; bad, he didn’t. With the condition he was in, he didn’t have much room to worry about others; and besides, even if Dominic had somehow died, Hell would send him back in an instant for fear of his contagious stupidity. Still, he worried, as per his nature; and even if he didn’t worry about Dominic, there was the fact that he was back in a revolutionary-controlled city.

 

He never thought about it when he was under Alakazam, but the revolutionaries monopolized just as much as the rebels; they asked for a lot of cities in exchange for protection from the rebels including top-rate potential revolutionaries, the best food, and seventy percent of shipments that were supposed to head to the Pokémon Mart. Considering that non-revolutionary/rebels lived within those cities as well with their own Pokémon that also required Potions, Restores, et cetera, it seemed demanding, but with the way Reyes had his head down licking shoes, he never noticed.

 

It took him a while, but finally he found the strength to sit up; his arms were bandaged where his leaf blades used to be, meaning that they had completely fallen off, and judging by the feel of his back, his seed pods were gone too. No matter, as he was a plant; he would grow them back in a short while. He reached over and took the bowl that Chansey had left into his hands; it was pleasantly warm and smelled sweet, like cinnamon, but was a very thick and pale white. He took a small sip, amazed by the thin texture; it tasted like egg, better than it smelled, and it didn’t take long for him to finish it. True to her word, the pain in his muscles faded to near nothingness, but he was still exhausted in more ways than one; he left the bowl on the nightstand and laid back down. Dominic, he decided, would be fine; he lasted as long as he did on his own, so what would a little bit more time matter…?

 

——————

 

_Reyes was knocked onto his back yet again by Deidrick; he grinned as Reyes spat out a wad of fertilized soil. “Aw, now you’re full of crap too,” Deidrick joked. He was the only child among Brendan’s Pokémon; if Reyes remembered correctly, he was nine in Pokémon years, making him seven years younger than Reyes. “Hey, ya know why the Ducklett crossed the road?”_

_“Shaddup,” Reyes muttered, smoothing his head leaf out between his claws. Deidrick was Brendon’s Manectric, always full of energy and of pesky cereal box jokes; even so, he was the one that always managed to lighten the mood. He offered a paw, bringing Reyes to his feet._

_“You used to your body yet?”_

_“It’s a work in progress,” he replied. “It’s still weird…like, one day, I was a Treecko, and now…”_

_“Well, it’s a big deal to evolve,” he said. “More so whenRIIIIIP_

Reyes jolted awake as he heard a ripping noise; he rolled over groggily and spotted a dark shadow tearing at the window’s curtains. “Dominic, just as I thought,” Reyes said into the darkness.

 

“…” There was another rip, then bright red eyes looked back at him; Reyes was instantly on edge.

 

“You’re not Dominic.”

 

“Banette,” it said in a raspy but muffled voice; it punctuated the word with another rip on the curtains. “Ban.”

 

Reyes sat up, becoming more aware of his missing leaf blades; he wasn’t going to grow them back in the middle of the night even using Synthesis. Although he did have a large pool for moves, they were weakened by the lack of sunlight; that Banette couldn’t have picked a worse time to sneak up on him. “You’re…one of the bad guys.”

 

“Banette, ban,” it muttered with another rip. It released the curtain and started to move; by the movements of its glowing eyes, it looked like it was walking, yet Reyes couldn’t hear any sounds. Then he shivered as it grew closer, and then it was against his ear, voice clear and loud: “YOU’RE GOING TO DIE.”

 

Reyes threw himself to the side as a distortion hit the bed, warping it inwards and twisting the metal frame into coils; he stood up and pressed himself against the wall as those red eyes appeared a couple of feet below the ceiling. He gritted his teeth and, hoisting the window open, jumped through; he was on the second floor, but he had healed enough to absorb the impact. Banette floated through the window into the moonlight’s path; it gave Reyes a ghastly grin before distorting the grass at his feet. He ran to the side to avoid it and scrambled up a light post to even out their heights and released Razor Leaf; they just passed through Banette’s body like air. Ghost-type, he thought, working his jaw; had he still had his blades, he could’ve used Night Slash or Pursuit, but without them…

 

“Ban!” it cried as it gathered its Ghost-type energy into a large purple ball; Reyes dodged out of the way as it struck the light post, reducing the steel to smoldering remains, and again as it melted the parking lot’s asphalt. He watched Banette make a third and made a move to go backwards before he tripped over something; Reyes fell flat on his back with a _whump_ and the Shadow Ball hit him head-on. The damage was not crippling, but Ghost-type attacks had the nasty side-effect of siphoning the victim’s life energy; already, he could feel himself losing power. He pressed his hands to the ground and created vines just below Banette; again, they passed through its body easily. “Ban, ban,” it chuckled.

 

“Damn it,” he growled, taking up a rock and throwing it; amazingly, it hit Banette in the head, causing it to bob in the air like an apple in water. “Fling,” Reyes realized, then he took up a rock in each hand and lobbed both of them; Banette reacted quickly this time, repelling them with distortions. Reyes needed something to attack it with, but everything he threw it just distorted, and even its attacks distorted things; the grass and the light post were burnt to crisps— Wait, that made no sense; Ghost-types corroded things, not burned them. Reyes moved behind another light post as it released another Shadow Ball; the steel heated below his claws, burning his skin, and he jumped away. Whether it was doing it on purpose or not, the Banette was superheating things; he could use that to his advantage.

 

“Banette?” it said in confusion as Reyes started coughing into his hands; it took a while, but he managed to expel three large seeds. He cocked his arm and tossed them at Banette with all of his strength; it giggled as it distorted them, but it waited a little too long and they ended up inches from its body.

 

“Seed Bomb,” Reyes told it as the seeds exploded from the heat; they still would have blown up naturally, but if the Banette did it itself, it wouldn’t have been expecting it. It was knocked from the air and hit the ground with a light _poof_ ; Reyes slid across the dirt to hold it down with his claws. “Are you one of the rebels?”

 

“Ban!” It gave Reyes the finger; Reyes used his vines to bind its limbs to the ground.

 

“Are you one of the Elite Four!”

 

“Banette!” It turned its head defiantly.

 

“…Where is Dominic.”

 

This time, its zipper pulled back, revealing a blue light within its mouth that was surely its life force. “SHARPEDO TORE THAT BASTARD TO BITS BY NO—” Reyes thrusted his hand into its mouth, causing it to choke and sputter, and grabbed hold of its life; its zipper and teeth closed around his wrist in an attempt to zip shut, tearing away the skin of his arm and hand, but he pulled its life free and it fell limp. He released it to the sky and watched it disappear into the night like a Volbeat; it was sort of pretty in a way.

 

Still, the Banette’s words stuck with him; he hadn’t seen any evidence of Dominic so far, and considering how joined at the hip he had been… It was something of a hard reality to face, but he had really started to care for Dominic as a friend; if he had died, well, Reyes would be…sad. Wow, that hurt more than he thought it would. He looked at the Pokémon Center’s glowing PokeBall and decided against returning; if that Pokémon found him, then he wasn’t safe there. Even if he wanted to hang back to look for Dominic, he had to move; the question was where he _could_ go.

 

He walked down Mossdeep’s streets in the dark night, the pavement cold beneath his feet; he stripped away the bandages to free the sprouts of leaf blades, and he could feel the flowers on his back slowly growing into seed pods. It would take a while, but if he could find a good resting spot by daytime, the process would go by quicker; one of the upsides of being a plant, while the cons of poison, frost, and anatomy still existed. He watched the street lights dwindle until he was passing through a quiet residential area; the houses lights were off save for one, and although he couldn’t hear any words inside he could hear laughter. It made him homesick for Ever Grande; after Brendan, they were all he had in regards to family. Now, he just had Dominic; the thought made him an entirely different sort of sick, but in a sort of endearing way.

 

_“What’cha readin’?” Brendan asked, sitting next to Reyes on his bed; Reyes angled the picture book so that Brendan could see it. “Hm… A grocery store?”_

_“They’re eating plants!” he cried, appalled; although Brendan couldn’t really understand his words, he could understand Reyes._

_“You mean the vegetables? That’s normal,” he laughed; Reyes pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Aw, c’mon, what’s the problem? Think they’ll eat you or something? Treecko doesn’t taste very good, you know.”_

_“Chht,” he muttered, chagrined and dismayed; Brendan nudged his shoulder._

_“Really, Rey, it’s just the circle of life; people eat plants, then when the people die their bodies help feed the plants.”_

_“Really?” Reyes asked, astounded; he didn’t know much of the world yet._

_“Yeah, that’s how it is,” he grinned. “Life’s learned to work itself out even without us humans messin’ things up. But anyway, let’s go; Mom’s made salad tonight!”_

That, Reyes thought, rubbing his temples, will get annoying.


	13. 2.4. ZOMBIE

_“Reyes.”_

 

Reyes yawned, pushing away a crate to crawl out of his hiding place; luckily nobody on the ferry spotted him, so he managed five full hours of sleep. He listened closely for footsteps outside of the storage room, and when he was sure that it was clear he pushed through the door into the wooden hallway; a lone human couple was walking the end giggling and holding hands. He retreated back into the room, the sight making him sick with memories; as he thought, those flashbacks were becoming annoying. Maybe it was because after so long, he was finally alone with his thoughts; consequently, they took his mind whenever possible with old memories unimportant to the situation.

 

“Wait, did I just hear my name?” he wondered aloud, looking around the hallway again; the couple had left and so it was completely empty. “It sounded sort of like…” He ran down the hall and checked both corners, then he peeked onto the deck; although they were plenty of people and Pokémon, there were no Zoroark. “He would be in the shade,” he realized, and started checking the many dark corridors and corners of the boat; still, he couldn’t find Dominic. He realized that he was making himself frantic and pounded the wall with his fist, trying to channel out his frustration; Dominic was a lot of things, but not telepathic, so if he was hearing Dominic’s voice and he couldn’t see Dominic, then something was wrong.

 

“I’m losing focus,” he muttered, pressing his fist into his cheek. “I just have to lay low on the boat until we reach Lilycove, then I can find a real hiding spot; it doesn’t matter if worrying is my nature, I can’t worry about—”

 

_“Hey look at this!” Dominic said, pointing at Bug-type Pokémon scurrying across a tree branch. “There’s Spinarak, Masquerain, Metapod, and Vivillon!”_

_“That’s impressive to you?”_

_“Well…yeah; I enjoy the world and everything on it,” he admitted; Reyes could’ve maybe figured that from his overzealousness at seeing rocks and dirt. “It’s just…the Legendary Pokémon’ve been doin’ sorta a crappy job maintaining crap, so I take what I can get, and what I can get is either some jacked-up rebel city or this kind of nature.” He sat down on a flat rock and pulled his legs to his chest. “So I try to enjoy everythin’, ‘cause you know what they say: you don’t ‘preciate somethin’ ‘til it’s gone.”_

_“Ain’t that right,” Reyes agreed, sitting with him and watching the Bug Pokémon._

“—him—”

 

_“Reyes, c’mon!” Lilly laughed, splashing around in the small tide pool, bringing up little Staryu and Clamperl and Luvdisc as she went; Sunny was learning how to swim in the shallow depths, but as with a lot of things, she was quickly becoming an expert. Reyes remained firmly planted on an overgrowth of bright coral nearby, but at Lilly’s urging he dipped one foot in the cool, sandy water._

_“There, I’m technically in the water.” He saw her laugh in response, Sunny mimicking her and flapping her little flippers. The beach was filled with people and Trainers and Pokémon all enjoying the crisp summer day, Frisbees flying and grills roasting and balls bouncing and towels snapping and battles firing; a cool breeze slowly wafted down the shore, bringing with it the tang of ocean salt and the smell of contentment._

_“Oh, don’t be such a stick.”_

_“Actually, I’m a leaf, in case you’ve forgotten.”_

_“Daddy,” Sunny pleaded, widening her large eyes at him endearingly; he tried to steel himself, but when she put on the charm, it was all over._

_“Fine,” he grumbled, dropping to the sand; it crunched wetly beneath his feet as he made his way into the deeper end of the tide pool, reaching just below his shoulders. Sunny plowed into his chest with a torrent of giggles, slapping her flippers against his skin in a weak attempt of a hug; he chuckled and put his arms around her, holding her tightly against him. “Are you having fun?”_

_“Yeah, lots!” she said with a wide smile. “The beach is so fun, Daddy!”_

_“Really? But the sand…and the smell of meat is_ everywhere _…”_

_“Too late,” Lilly smiled. “She’ll be asking to come back here all the time, and you know you can’t refuse your little girl.”_

_“Hah… I can’t refuse you either, Lil,” he grinned, setting Sunny on Lilly’s shell to bend over into the water. “I think I saw some nice shells down here…”_

“—anymore—”

 

_“WHY?”_

_“Why what?” Reyes asked tiredly, rolling onto his side on the eye-catching picnic blanket. “And why are you here?” The cliff at the edge of Ever Grande, hidden away by a thicket of trees just in front of Victory Road, was his private spot; it was quiet and gave a great view of the Hoenn region which, with a bird’s-eye view, almost looked like it did eight years ago. Tex buzzed to a stop next to him, looking quite calm despite its frequent glitches; rumor had it that antivirus programs cowered in the face of its extensive problems._

_“WHY-WHY ARE YOU SO—beep transmitting error 20489—AF-RAID OF BEING AL-ONE?”_

_“What in Arceus’ name are you talking about, Tex?”_

_“I’VE GOT A COMPUTER-TER BRAIN, REMEMBER? I SEE-SEE AND—click—FILE AWAY THINGS MOST PEOPLE/POKÉMON DON’T 39842 NOTICE.” For a moment, its dartboard eyes cleared. “I JUST WANNA—WANT TO KNOW WHY.”_

_“It’s…personal.” He shifted uncomfortably._

_“IT’S OKAY-KAY, YOU DON’T HAVE TO TELL ME—beep beep—EVERY DETAIL; I’M JUST A LITTLE CURIOUS-US.”_

_“Ah… I’ve had a lot taken from me, Tex.” He rolled onto his back and watched the clouds lazily shift across the sky; no matter how much the world changed, they didn’t. “My wife, my daughter… Now I have a new family, and the thought of one day losing you all shakes me to my core; being alone means having no one and nothing with you, nothing but the shadows on your back and the burdens on your shoulders. Friends, at least, can help you bear them.”_

_“…DEEP,” Tex commented. “HOWEVER I DO NOT UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONS OF FLESH AND BLOOD.”_

_“Then why even claim to be curious?”_

_“I DO NOT UNDERSTAND,” he repeated. “BUT I AM PROGRAMMED TO FEEL THEM…IT’S A STRANGE THING, REALLY.”_

_“Yeah…must be.”_

His shoulder hit the wall, then he slumped down to the ground, head in his hands. “No…I can’t stop caring, and that’s the problem…”

 

——————

 

Reyes was shocked by a sudden tremor in the boat’s skeleton; he lurched to his feet and, wiping his face on his claws, started running in its direction. He heard and felt the sound a second time when he was halfway down, almost causing him to topple down the metal stairway; it sounded like something was trying to puncture the ship’s hull. He tried to move faster, sprinting down a long corridor leading to the boiler room; to his amazement, one of the portholes peeking out into the water burst in a shower of thick fiber glass, throwing him against the wall with a sudden geyser of water. He hit the ground a moment later, sputtering and coughing, and another tremor hit the boat; the rest of the portholes along the corridor broke, quickly submerging it, and a klaxon began ringing throughout the ship.

 

“Damn it,” he swore, taking a deep breath before the hall was completely filled with water; he was a decent enough swimmer thanks to Lilly and Sunny, but he couldn’t hold his breath forever, and even though he could take in carbon dioxide from the water, he still needed sunlight to preform photosynthesis.

 

A blue and grey blur raced at him from down the hall; he didn’t have time to move before it collided with him and knocked him aside, bruising his ribs and stomach. He had to clench his jaw to hold in his air, and he didn’t even have time to recover before it came back; this time, he gasped, his breath escaping him a flurry of bubbles tinted green from chlorophyll. It had to be a Water-type with that kind of fluidity, but that made it harder for Reyes; if he couldn’t catch up to or even see it, then he was all twelve types of damned.

 

Reyes tried to pump forward but he was cut off by that Pokémon again, tearing a gash in his leg and ripping some leaves from his tail; he tried to back towards the stairs but that Pokémon returned, bashing him in the head so hard that he tumbled head over heels to the ground. He couldn’t go anywhere, which was becoming a bigger problem by the second, as he was running out of air; if he couldn’t surface soon, he would drown. He put his hands together and put his remaining air into extending and thickening his leaf blades until they reached the corners of the narrow hall; the Pokémon slammed into them instead of him, finally coming to a stop.

 

“Good job,” the Sharpedo said derisively, teeth bared in his ever-present scowl. “Ya stopped me.” Reyes tried to talk before he remembered that he was underwater. “Don’t forget, yer in my territory now, Sceptile.” He growled before spreading his jaws, revealing three rows of needle-like teeth, and rushed Reyes; he put his arm out reflexively as Sharpedo’s jaws clamped down, pulling his arm away from the elbow-down but cutting into the soft skin of his mouth and cheek with Reyes’ leaf blades. He gagged into the water, a stream of crimson blood running out, and smashed his tail into the wall angrily; the steel dented with a heavy groan before it split into a huge crack, the water rushing through. He slipped past Sharpedo into the opening and fell into a large storage room; although it was empty to begin with, the water was quickly swelling within, but at least he could breathe for another two minutes. That Sharpedo landed in the shallow water, giving him about a foot of swimming space.

 

“You can’t hit me as long as I’m not in water.” Reyes pulled the seaweed floating outside of the ship, forcing it through the hull and around the room like the cords of an Ariados’ web; he hated to puncture the boat even more, but it restricted the Sharpedo’s movements further.

 

“I won’t let ya reach the surface!” Sharpedo attempted to run through the seaweed but Reyes was smart enough to coil them together, thickening them; he worked his leaf blades into the ceiling as the room filled with water and felt them cut into the thick steel. He felt the water displace beneath him and raised his legs in time to avoid Sharpedo’s ripping jaws; he slowed to turn around, then latched firmly onto Reyes’ tail, shredding his leaves and then the trunk. The Sharpedo was close enough to take a chunk out of Reyes’ leg when he finally sliced through the ceiling; he punched the circle of steel loose and pitched forward to let it fall on Sharpedo, knocking him loose and causing him to spiral through the water. Reyes lifted himself into a higher-leveled room; it was halfway filled with water, giving him enough air to breathe, but it was quickly filling from water draining in through the halls and from the holes he made. He barely got his feet on the ground before the boat gave a great and heavy groan and started tilting to the left; he lost his balance and fell through the water and against the wall, jarring his brain.

 

Sharpedo leapt through the hole into the air, and while Reyes was still stunned he opened his mouth and fired a beam of icy cold; Reyes’ leg was practically melded to the wall with ice, then his remaining arm, trapping him under. Then the Sharpedo rushed him again, jaws dripping purple mist into the water; having learned his lesson already about poison, Reyes used his vines to break the ice on his arm and, quickly weaving a net with them, stopped Sharpedo inches from his body. He released the net, watching Sharpedo tangle his own jaws in it, and smashed the remaining ice with his fist; he pushed back to hit one of the room’s portholes, but he couldn’t smash the glass on his own. Sharpedo recovered, shaking out his thick head, and rushed Reyes again; he took a head butt right in his chest, knocking his breath out of his lungs, and Sharpedo slammed his tail into Reyes, slamming his back into the porthole.

 

Reyes grabbed Sharpedo’s dorsal fin and directed him down; he made a growling noise deep in his throat as it smacked Reyes in the face with his tailfin. A few seconds later, Reyes realized that Sharpedo himself wasn’t growling, but the water; in the next moment Reyes felt an immense pressure on his back as Sharpedo fired a pressurized jet of water that launched both of them into the ceiling. The pain in his back added up to his lightheadedness and pain in his emptied lungs, and right when he thought he would pass out from it all the steel gave another groan as it started to bend.

 

He lowered his body to use his feet and vines to attack the steel, and a few moments later it finally gave, the water pushing them through a room filled with vehicles being transported across the water; again he hit a ceiling, but this time the steel was thin enough that he went through with minimal pain, and finally they were in the open air, the sun beating down on his back. He released Sharpedo as he felt his seed pods bloat and open up to the sunlight, then sprouts and vines rapidly grew from the stubs of his arm and tail; Sharpedo gave a mad barking sound that was more Manectric than Sharpedo as it launched at Reyes, teeth freezing over; Reyes pushed off of his back and, looping his vines in Sharpedo’s mouth like reigns, pulled him in a loop and slammed him down into the wooden deck, scaring the passengers that were rushing to lifeboats.

 

“Everybody, this is the one that’s attacking the ship!” Reyes shouted as Sharpedo landed on the desk, hopping in a mad attempt to reach the ocean; the humans couldn’t understand but their Pokémon—blissfully factionless Pokémon—did, and they started ganging up on Sharpedo. Reyes used the opportunity to retreat away from immediate danger, letting his arm and tail grow back and the rest of his injuries heal; he was close to done when he heard an awfully familiar voice, although it was so poor that he almost believed he imagined it. Almost. Reyes looked up at the two dozen or so Pokémon firing attacks at Sharpedo, preventing it from reaching the water and finally damaging it, and spotted the one he was looking for; a Unova Pokémon in Hoenn was pretty easy to find, after all, even if said Pokémon looked like he was hit by a truck, put through a can opener, and doused in gasoline to be set on fire.

 

“DOMINIC!”

 

“Reyes?” Dominic replied, turning to look at him; that was all he got out before Sharpedo’s jaws latched onto him and the both of them landed in the ocean. Reyes swore to himself as he ran to the protective railing, spotting the blood painting the surface; now that he thought about it, it had to have been Sharpedo that attacked their boat. Did that mean that Dominic had been fighting him the whole time? Considering that Reyes could barely dent his defense, it seemed plausible; that also explained Dominic’s ruined appearance. Reyes still had questions, like how could Dominic fight him in any way when he couldn’t swim, but there was another issue: in that condition the saltwater alone was deadly, which made Sharpedo a plain stupid goal. Reyes took a deep breath before leaping over the railing and into the water.

 

Sharpedo was trying to drag Dominic to the bottom, but he was having a hard time swimming past the debris left by the boat while keeping hold of Dominic—not that that was a real effort with how battered he was. Reyes used the seaweed again, pulling it from the sand and knotting them together to net Sharpedo; he shredded it easily with his fins and tails and continued unhindered. Reyes swam after him, but he could feel the water pressure increase by the moment; for Dominic, it had to be unbearable, and his eyes were bugging as he tried to hold his breath in even as his nose started bleeding.

_“Reyes!”_ It sounded like Dominic, but his mouth wasn’t moving; it was most likely an illusion of his voice, similar to the Pokémon Center and even earlier that day when he thought he was hearing his name. Reyes kept trying with the seaweed but it wasn’t working; he used his vines too but all that did was pull some skin from his arms and hands. Most of his moves were useless underwater; he was running out of options. He hated to do it, but he came to a stop, watching Sharpedo move faster into the depths before swimming to the surface, pumping his tail for extra speed; Dominic’s bewildered expression was priceless, but the trust that was within it conversely bewildered Reyes. That pretty much sealed the fact that from then on, Reyes would screw himself over and bust his behind several times to save Dominic’s.

 

He put his blades together and, gathering as much strength in his legs as he could, dove back down; the blades extended and hardened exponentially, cutting through the water for him so that he met almost zero resistance, streamlining his body almost as much as a real Water-type. The water pressure still hurt, forcing chlorophyll from his nose and eyes, and the speed tore leaves from his tail, but he was out-speeding even Sharpedo; he looked up in surprise as Reyes came close with a flurry of bubbles and nearby Water-types scattering. Dominic used the last of his strength to throw up an illusion, forcing his jaws open and his torpedo body to finally hold still, and sunk below as Reyes slashed into his thick hide; it tore into shreds with Reyes’ speed and strength, and…well, Reyes hated to mull over what he did to Sharpedo, but there wasn’t much left but blood and enough food for any nearby shark Pokémon for a couple of weeks.

 

“Bahaah!” Dominic choked, blood and air rushing out of his mouth and up to the surface; Reyes grabbed his arms and backpedaled, trying not to move too fast. Dominic felt just as wrecked as he looked, shredded and bashed and enough to bring tears to the eyes of any humane being. It gave Reyes an answer as to why he was so scared of the Elite Four rebels: they were just as, if not more, gruesome than he was. It took too long for him to reach the surface, but he found that the boat had completely sunk and that the lifeboats were filled. He couldn’t swim either; the saltwater was visibly hurting Dominic and Lilycove’s shore was three dozen feet away, too many if Reyes had to be careful with his body. He swam in circles for a long time before he detected another Pokémon nearby; before he could react, something surfaced beneath them, catching both of them on a slippery serpentine body.

 

“I didn’t think we’d meet again in this way, Reyes,” the Milotic said.

 

“Wilma… Thank you… No, really, I can’t even thank you enough,” Reyes sighed to Lilly’s girl friend; she didn’t respond for a while, silently swimming towards the shore. Dominic eased up a bit, being out of water, but he still looked like he was dying, blood barely trickling out of his wounds.

 

“H…Hey, Reyes…” he coughed, then grinned, showing that he was missing more than a few teeth.

 

“Your canines are gone…I guess you’ll have to eat Berries from now on.” He sounded calm, but in actuality, he was fighting hard to keep memories at bay, memories of watching more comrades falling in front of him and even passing in his own arms; Dominic would just be another tick on that list. He was sweating, and he had to swallow repeatedly to both ease his dry throat and repel the bile rising up from his stomach; Dominic noticed, but it looked like it hurt him even more to point it out.

 

“Haha…I’d sooner die…than sink that low…” He meant that literally.

 

“Dominic, you’re going to live.”

 

“Reyes…face facts,” he said almost derisively before breaking into a coughing fit, more blood trickling out of his mouth. “Sharpedo w-wrecked me… Too fast ‘n’ too heavy… Couldn’t lay a claw…nah…couldn’t get more than two…knocks on ‘is…fat ‘ead… I sucked at that…huh?”

 

“Your help was invaluable,” Reyes countered, grabbing his shoulder; it was nearly painful considering that only a day earlier, their positions were reversed. “If not for you, Sharpedo would have simply dodged, and both of us would have…perished.”

 

“I’m no…hero…”

 

“Maybe not, but nonetheless,” he persisted. “We don’t have too long until we reach the Pokémon Center—Wilma, can you hurry?”

 

“If I go any faster, he’ll fall off,” she said defensively. “Anyway, you’re just lucky that I was out here; I was invited for a swim by the most handsome Kingdra—”

 

“No, I’m lucky that you crawled out of whatever hibernation you were in to finally help.”

 

“Hey, take my help or leave it; I wasted a perfectly good date because I heard your screams!” Then her voice dropped a little. “I recognized them too easily.”

 

“I apologize… I really am thankful for your presence, Wilma.”

 

“Hmph.”

 

He dropped his hand to hold Dominic’s claws, ignoring the feel of dried blood on his hands. “You held off that Sharpedo for an entire day, Dominic! Considering how strong it was, I don’t know what’s greater than that!”

 

“I…” He started coughing again and his eyes closed. “The world…ain’t losin’ much…”

 

“Au contraire.”

 

“I don’ speak wha’ev’r the hell…” He tried to smile but failed, his face contorting in pain. “Ouch…”

 

“What hurts?” In hindsight, that was a damn stupid question; again, Dominic ignored that.

 

“Everythin’…then again, nothin’, if that…makes sense…” It did, and Reyes hated what it meant.

 

“Dominic, don’t die; a kid like you, that’d be a damn shame.”

 

“You’ve been sayin’…that, but…know what?” Dominic was the grimmest Reyes had ever seen him, his eyes sad. “I stopped… I stopped bein’ that…when I first…laid my claws on…someone else…” He gasped, then his head fell back; for a moment, he wasn’t breathing at all, then he started again with a rattle that even Wilma could hear. “I’m not…gonna…” Reyes looked up; Lilycove was practically a hop and skip away, and there were already doctors and Nurse Joys on the shore receiving people for care. He didn’t dare hit Dominic like Dominic had done to him; it looked like the wind alone could kill him.

 

“It doesn’t matter… Look, none of it matters,” he said breathlessly, struggling to keep his eyes on Dominic’s. “Just… Just keep talking, alright? Talk about Steven or Ali or whatever you want!”

 

“I… I used your…your tail to…bl-blow my nose.” Reyes didn’t even have the energy to be irritated, but he sure as hell tried.

 

“Dominic you bastard.”

 

“Heh… I know.” His laugh was just as rattling as his breathing; it made his chest sound like a can of spray paint. “Rey… Go tah Steve’s grave fa meh… ‘n’ give ‘im daisies…daisies ‘n’ some pr’ty rocks…from Shoal Cave… In lovin’ mem’ry…of Dom…”

 

“Don’t talk about any of that.”

 

“You said…keep talkin’…so’s I’s talkin’…”

 

“I meant… Oh, Dominic, just don’t talk about dying. You’ll get to the Pokémon Center and you’ll be perfectly fine. We’ll keep running and you’ll keep being a pain and I’ll keep attacking you for it. Everything will be fine and just the same, alright?”

 

“I believe you,” he said clearly, although he wasn’t looking Reyes in the eyes. Lilycove was so close he could practically touch it; Reyes stopped Ethan and, carefully hoisting Dominic onto his back, leapt from Wilma’s body; her skin was slick, however, and Reyes slipped when he jumped, causing him to hit the sand bodily and roll across it; when he opened his eyes Dominic was sitting a few feet away cringing at the sensation of sand in his wounds.

 

“Help!” he called to the Nurse Joys; a Chansey was the first to notice him, tapping her Nurse before waddling over in concern. Two more Chansey and another Joy joined them as they huddled around Dominic, who had fallen still. Reyes felt the memories almost literally pricking at his skull and fell over onto his hands, panting and gasping for breath. It hurt…it hurt on all new levels of hurt… The battlefield, covered in blood and bodies and combat nurses… Pain… Trying to pick who was alive and who was a corpse—pain—trying to salvage belongings from razed homes—pain pain—trying to gain friends from wary enemies—pain pain painpainpain—

 

“Him too!” a distant voice said; it almost sounded underwater, and it was so distorted he couldn’t get the gender. There were hands and paws going on him; he pushed them all away, eyes wide, and stumbled away, the pain in his head intensifying. He finally collapsed on the boardwalk, his heart racing and head pounding; he looked through his claws at the pandemonium on the beach, the people and Pokémon talking to authorities and trying to figure out what had happened, injured getting medical help. He couldn’t go on like that, but he didn’t think he’d be in any decent shape for a while, not if he stayed in that place; he used a street light’s pole to pull himself to his feet and headed towards the city.

 

Despite the perils on the beach, Lilycove itself remained the same, even compared to when he had last visited; it made him feel strange that while he had changed, the world ultimately hadn’t. He felt the pain reach his body as well and cringed; if he stressed any further, his leaves would start dying again. He was still dazed as he made his way around the city, the Pokémon around him barely giving him a second glance; it helped that he was just an unforgettable Sceptile, making it harder for anybody to recognize him. He passed by the Cove Lily Motel, the same one that he had stayed at for several weeks, and then the Lilycove Museum, which he visited several times for the art pieces within; he passed the Pokémon Fan Club, in which the owner frequently asked him for an autograph and he politely refused, the Pokémon Contest Hall, which he religiously avoided, and then the Memory Girl’s house, which he also religiously avoided after one particular run-in…

 

He reached the Pokémon Center but couldn’t find an opening to enter with the Nurse Joys and Trainers and Pokémon rushing in and out; he bit his tongue trying to keep his patience, which was already as thin as an onion’s skin, and finally he just lost it and shoved a Chansey out of the way, where said Chansey huffed and waddled away angrily. The waiting room was packed with Trainers and their friends waiting anxiously; the air even smelled tense, if that made sense. Reyes went up to the counter where the Nurse Joy receptionist and her Chansey were trying to placate a young man and woman asking about an injured Pidgeotto; he could barely get a word in edgewise, but he tried anyway.

 

“T-There was a Zoroark—” As he expected, they didn’t answer; he didn’t even have the energy to try and just walked past them to the recovery rooms. In a city like Lilycove, the Pokémon Center was big enough to have dozens of them, but apparently Reyes had decent guessing skills; it took him less than a handful of tries to find Dominic’s room. He was strung up with bandages and had three different medications going into him; he was curled into a furry ball on the bed so that he couldn’t look around, but thankfully he was still breathing, albeit faintly. Reyes sat on a chair next to the bed, his head still sore and his body shaking, and he sighed into his hands; Dominic’s ears went up at the sound but he didn’t say anything.

 

“This place…it hurts,” Reyes muttered under his breath; again, Dominic didn’t reply. “This has to be a little funny to you, seeing me like this… Just admit it.”

 

“Shorta,” he slurred in response. “Dunno. Tired…”

 

“What did Nurse Joy say?”

 

“Can…live…” It sounded like he said “can’t,” but Reyes could understand from his tone of voice.

 

“That’s good… Arceus, I thought you really wouldn’t make it.”

 

“I shought…too…” he muttered. “Haha… I shtill…keep talkin’?”

 

“No…” He gave a sigh and looked up; Dominic had his head angled so that he could look at Reyes with one blurred eye. “I think that I’ll do the talking now.”


	14. 2.4.1. Reyes, Part I

“This is Adam Castello reporting live from Sootopolis City,” said a wild-eyed brown haired reporter as noises and explosions raged in the background. “The fight between Pokémon and humans is still going on strong; they have yet to recoil, changing our minds about what we previously thought was a temporary thing. The casualties are in the hundreds area on both sides as Gym Leader Wallace alongside Gym Leaders Tate and Liza of Mossdeep City work to quell fighting in both their areas; the Elite Four, also, is coming to aid us. Is the final straw for Trainer-owned Pokémon? Is this the last of the relationship between us? Find out next time on—no, don’t come any closer—don’t—AGAAH!”

 

Brendan and his Pokémon watched, stunned silent, as the broadcast ended and the T.V. went to fuzz; Deidrick was the first to cry out in outrage, where Azalea tried to calm him, and Brendan’s twin Zangoose Kim and Leroy started arguing about Adam Castello’s last words. “Guys, guys!” Brendan said, trying to quiet them all; the three of them were getting frustrated and messing up his furniture. “Guys!”

 

“That’s enough from all of you!” Reyes shouted, instantly silencing all of them. “Brendan, we’re going to help them, right?”

 

“Help them?” Brendan fell silent for a bit, bringing back the commotion; Reyes silenced them again as Brendan walked around his parents’ living room, mussing up his already messy dark hair and wiping his hands on his Pokémon Academy hoodie. Reyes realized how unreasonable the request was; Brendan was just fourteen, still a kid, and he was talking about a rebellion, which nobody seemed brave enough to call it. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m scared for all the people getting attacked, but…”

 

“We can handle it!” Deidrick said with a hyped bark, his fur sparking.

 

“Yeah, we can!” Kim and Leroy cried, slapping claws together.

 

“Brendan, we can’t just sit back and watch them suffer,” Azalea said, touching his arm; he swallowed, then he looked at Reyes.

 

“Please,” Reyes told him; Brendan scanned his face before nodding.

 

“Going from eating nachos and watching old movies to savin’ the world,” he muttered in disbelief, grabbing his backpack and filling it with money, snacks, PokeBalls, Full Restores, and extra Berries. “What a jump!”

 

It was a long trip from Verdanturf, but they didn’t even have to reach Mossdeep; the rebellion had spread in a short time to Lilycove. As Brendan walked through the city they became aware of noise on the shore; he and Reyes took off and found a squad of Officer Jennys and their Pokémon holding back a larger army of Pokémon coming out from boats and from swimming and from flying.

 

“Reyes, help them!” Brendan said as he started rooting through his bag for his PokeBalls; Reyes nodded and ran into the fray, leaf blades ready. He tackled a Houndoom from the get-go, knocking her to the ground; she got up and shook her head out angrily before launching a Flamethrower at him. He ducked beneath it and cut into the Houndoom’s ankles; she toppled and couldn’t get up again. A Swellow swept above him and latched onto his head’s leaf with its claws; he was nearly dragged into the air before he rooted his vines in the ground, then he entangled its wings with his vines and brought it down into the water. He felt some Pokémon jump on his back, then a much larger one followed; that continued until his feet sunk into the sand and he fell over on his stomach, immobilized.

 

“Get offa him!” Deidrick yelled before the smell of sulfur filled the air; the Pokémon leapt from his back as the air around them supercharged. Reyes pushed himself to his feet as Deidrick grinned triumphantly at him, bouncing back and forth on his paws.

 

“Yeah, good boy,” Reyes said, patting his head; Deidrick laughed excitedly, leaning into his hand. Reyes saw an Exploud coming up behind him and pulled Deidrick out of the way, giving it a punch in the gut; it stumbled back, startled, then he kicked it down.

 

“You don’t use your leaves much,” Deidrick noticed, electricity still sparking across his fur.

 

“I’m a Physical attacker by nature.” He backed away as a group of Pokémon began closing in on them from all angles. “Deidrick, I need you to—”

 

A sharp cry pierced the air as Kim and Leroy came spinning with Fury Swipes, giving several Pokémon bloody haircuts, and then Azalea pushed them away psychically; she started fretting over Deidrick and Reyes almost immediately. “Oh, I hope you two are alright…”

 

“Yes mom,” Deidrick said, his tongue coming out as she scratched behind his ear.

 

“You, Deidrick, and I can remain here; Kim, Leroy, you two help protect the city’s borders,” Reyes ordered; Kim and Leroy saluted him before turning back and running across the sand. At the city’s borders, leaning against the protective barricade put up by the Jennys, Brendan was looking out at them with concern, eyes wide; Reyes raised his fist, trying to assure him that everything would be okay, even though he himself couldn’t be any less sure of the answer.

 

——————

 

It felt like thirty minutes, but then again it also felt like three hours; Reyes wasn’t sure how long they had been fighting, but there were now much less Pokémon defending the city than there were attacking it. Bodies littered the ground, human and Pokémon alike; most of them were just unconscious. He was tired, although he wouldn’t admit it, and Azalea was supporting him more much than he’d like, even though she wasn’t much of a fighter; Deidrick was at his wits’ end as well, as he was quick to burn himself out when it came to emitting electricity. Reyes felt something gnawing on his leaves and threw his arm forward; a Carvahna flew from his arm into the water, but it had already consumed his leaf blades, and he couldn’t focus long enough to preform Photosynthesis.

 

“We’re not going to win,” Reyes finally admitted, falling on the sand; Azalea created a psychic barrier around them, keeping the other Pokémon at bay. Her psychic powers had never been very physical due to her pacifistic and loving nature; at most, she could stay on the sides of any battle, speak of the opponent’s next move at times, or rarely avoid a big predicament, but big battles like that were a big weakness for her when she could, at best, defend.

 

“Reyes—”

 

“He’s right,” Deidrick said tiredly. “It’s, like, three on thirty.” The other Trainers were doing a decent job of keeping the rebelling Pokémon’s attention, but still, it was obvious that the domestic Pokémon’s side was failing. The Pokémon were getting closer to the barricade, which the Jennys consequently had to push back; Brendan was arguing with one of them trying to stay there, which Reyes couldn’t help being hyperaware of. His heart started racing as he watched the Pokémon get closer and closer, then it nearly stopped when he saw a Flying-type sweep down with talons out; Brendan and several other kids were in its direct path.

 

“Lea, let me go!” Reyes told her, running forward; she dropped the barrier and he pushed off from the ground, using the taller Pokémon’s heads like tree branches to move above them, then he gave one final jump off of a Tangela, using its springiness to launch himself into the air. He grabbed the Fearow’s legs, causing it to veer away from the people and towards the buildings; it squawked angrily and pumped higher into the sky until the battle was far below them. Reyes lost his grip on one of its talons and it lashed at his face, cutting deep grooves and impairing his left eye; he pulled himself up with his other hand and sat on its back, lacing his vines around its neck like a noose. He pulled on the vines, forcing the Fearow to start diving; it squawked in dissent, then it pulled its wings in and started falling.

 

“Damn Trainer-owned dog,” the Fearow said derisively as the ground swelled closer; Reyes realized that it seriously had no intent of stopping. He waited a moment to gain his balance before jumping from the Fearow’s back (he also saw that it could pull itself back in the air three inches from the ground, to his dismay) and nearly fell on top of the crowd; as he expected, Azalea grabbed hold of him, slowing his descent until he hit the ground lightly. He saw the Fearow come back again and used Razor Wind; the sudden gust threw it off-course back to the main battle. The Fearow quickly spun around with a war cry, returning to the people, and this time it brought more than a few friends; Deidrick and Azalea tried to turn but the lot of them were still occupied by the Pokémon stuck on the ground. Reyes tried coiling his vines like an Ariados’ web around the outer buildings, but the birds still easily cut them away; they didn’t care much for his leaves either, and he couldn’t get them with Solar Beam as long as they were moving.

 

“Pelipper, use Ice Beam!” a female commanded from somewhere within the crowd; a Pelipper hobbled into the air lazily, but the strength of its Ice Beam made up for that tenfold, encasing all two dozen or so Flying-types in a thick coat of it. “Now, Skarmory, Aerial Ace!” A metallic blur raced between all of the Flying-types too fast for even Reyes to track, then they shattered into a shower of ice cubes, falling to the asphalt. The crowd cheered as the Flying-types landed and turned in the direction of their Trainer, a tall woman dressed for a flight; Reyes recognized her as the last Gym Leader Brendan fought, Winona of Fortree City.

 

“Everyone, get to safety!” Winona commanded, her Pokémon helping to push the crowd back. “You’ll get injured staying here!” The Jennys worked to move the crowds while Reyes searched for Brendan; he found Brendan still at the barricade watching the battle ahead.

 

“Reyes…” he said sadly, his eyes roving across the lifeless bodies.

 

“We can’t do anything about them,” Reyes muttered, looking away. He saw Brendan take out their PokeBalls but didn’t have the energy to argue; any longer out there anyway and they would die of exhaustion…or worse. Brendan shifted the PokeBalls around in his hands, trying to figure out which one belonged to who, while Reyes was distracted by a peculiar noise that grated his instincts; it went against all fibers of his being, but eventually he did turn to see the source, and it was one of the few things he monumentally regretted in his life, because that sound was a skull cracking. “DEIDRICK!” Reyes shouted, turning to him; Deidrick was wide-eyed and whimpering in pain as the Aggron gripped his head, and Azalea was being held back by two Sableye as she tried to run towards him, and Leroy was on the ground with Kim wailing for him as he tried to get up. Reyes ran back onto the beach, but it felt as if he was being dragged by Arceus itself, getting nowhere as the Aggron’s grip tightened, Deidrick’s cries intensifying—he couldn’t look, he just couldn’t—Arceus kept his eyes focused—Deidrick was wailing now—Aggron laughed—

 

_CRACK!_

 

…

 

_Brendan’s team is down to four._

 

Reyes blinked repeatedly but that image was and forever would be scratched into his eyelids with the roughest of blades; it hurt too, almost as if it was literally scratched into his eyelids. He felt Brendan’s arms go around him and became vaguely aware of PokeBalls activating, then they were moving, Brendan practically dragging him along; Reyes’ legs moved automatically, but he still had no sense of what was around him. “He’s just a kid,” he whispered hoarsely. “He was a kid; he didn’t deserve that…”

 

Brendan made a strangled sound as he tried to hold his cries back. “Reyes, this is scary…” He didn’t sound like the Trainer who had travelled most of Hoenn on his own, but instead like a scared child, which he was; Reyes was wrong to have dragged him out to a battlefield like that, but it was too late.

 

Brendan took him to the Pokémon Center; it was twice the size of most others considering Lilycove’s size, but it was packed with Pokémon going in and out from the battle on the outskirts on top of the usual flow of Trainers. He sat in the lobby, tears still running down his face; Reyes knelt at his side and rested his head on Brendan’s lap the same way he had been doing since he was a Treecko, but not as recently since Deidrick had occupied the position. “What happens now?” Brendan muttered, working his hair into knots with his fingers. Reyes couldn’t tell if he meant Deidrick or the rebellion in general, but it didn’t matter since either way, they were damned.

 

The rebellion in Lilycove was much like the common cold: it was severe at first, but was short-lived, as the rebelling Pokémon hadn’t organized themselves well enough to continue; still, the disease was running across waterborne cities with greater strength due to their isolation, and with the rebels gaining strength like a hurricane, it was just a matter of time before they hit Lilycove again with too much force to handle.

 

There was a memorial ceremony for everybody that perished protecting the city; since Lilycove didn’t have a Gym Leader of its own, it was held by Winona, who had managed to get there the fastest to quell the fighting. Deidrick was buried in some nameless cemetery with nameless others—no, they weren’t nameless; their names had been carved onto a great stone in the center of the city, forever to be remembered as heroes, but Brendan and his Pokémon would just think of Deidrick as a pointless casualty in a pointless fight.

 

Brendan did attend, his Pokémon out, but he was one of the people mourning a loss, and like them he was quick to escape when the ceremony was over; he retreated into a local park with his Pokémon following, his fists clenched so tightly they were bloodless. “Brendan,” Azalea said worriedly, touching his arm; he yanked it back almost immediately.

 

“You can’t heal this pain, Azalea,” he said despairingly, then he removed his backpack and turned it over, dumping their PokeBalls onto a paved square; he took out a ball-peen hammer and, before anybody could intervene, smashed Azalea, Kim, Leroy, and Reyes’ PokeBalls into bits.

 

“Brendan!” Reyes exclaimed; he couldn’t have been giving them up, could he? Brendan gave a furious groan and tossed the hammer as hard as he could; it landed in a stone birdbath, breaking the Taillow figure spitting the water. He sunk on his knees, his jeans getting mud and grass bits all over them, and started to cry. Deidrick’s PokeBall rolled across the pavement and tapped against Reyes’ foot. Reyes walked over and put his hands on Brendan’s shoulders, with him on his knees, they were finally an equal height. Brendan sniffled, eyes wide and watery, and Reyes pulled him into a hug; Brendan gripped him back so tightly that it almost hurt. Reyes would’ve told him that things would be okay, but he had never lied to Brendan; just the thought of it made his tongue feel like it was rotting.

 

“Things can’t stay this way forever,” Azalea whispered. “…Can they?” Kim and Leroy exchanged looks.

 

“I don’t have high hopes,” Kim said.

 

“Me neither,” Leroy added. “Sad, but true.” Azalea knelt down to take up the remnants of her PokeBall, then she picked up Deidrick’s and held both to her chest.

 

“I pray to Arceus that both of you are proven wrong.”

 

“Oi, you guys,” Reyes interrupted. “Just…be quiet.”

 

“I…I’m okay,” Brendan sniffled. “I am…Reyes.” That was the first time Brendan ever lied to him, and Reyes hated it; he punched Brendan on the crown of his head somewhat hard, and when he raised his face Reyes pinched his nose. “Hey! Ow ow ow!”

 

“Don’t do that again,” Reyes warned him; Brendan rubbed his nose and nodded warily. “…I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect Deidrick.”

 

“Reyes, no, it was far from your fault,” Azalea protested. “If anything, I should have seen this coming.”

 

“Me and Leroy were playing around too much,” Kim admitted.

 

“Maybe if we really put our heads in the game,” Leroy said thoughtfully.

 

“You guys,” Brendan whispered, understanding the basis of their conversation. “There was nothing any of us could’ve done… It’s my fault as his Trainer; I shouldn’t had put him out there because he was still so inexperienced. I…” Tears started running down his face again; heartbroken by the sight, Azalea knelt in front of him and clasped her hands to her chest in front of her extended heart. A soft pink aura appeared around her body, then it slowly moved to Brendan’s, surrounding him and emitting the soft sound of tin bells; his facial expression changed as Azalea gave a gasp and fell over.

 

“Lea!” Reyes caught her before she hit the ground, her skin feeling warm beneath his touch.

 

“That’s what…I can do,” she whispered. “The rest is…for you…as his best friend.”

 

“Lea, you’re not—”

 

“No,” she laughed softly, her eyes shutting. “Tired… Only tired. My wish for…for Brendan to heal…was a lot…I’m weak, remember?”

 

“We’re kind of useless now,” Kim said sheepishly; Leroy patted Reyes’ shoulder.

 

“Like A’ said, it’s all up to you now. None of us can affect Brendan like you can, Rey.”

 

“I…understand,” Reyes said. “I understand.”

 

Reyes later found out what the PokeBalls meant: Brendan was taking that rebellion far more seriously than they expected him too. It wasn’t because he was young; rather, they didn’t believe he could think that deeply about anything, and having been his Pokémon since the beginning, it wasn’t just an assumption. Still, he surprised all of them by constantly tuning into the news channel, watching any reports that he could, and writing half-baked counterattack ideas in his notebook when he had time; those made him constantly distracted, which worried Reyes.

 

At the end of that week, Reyes was woken by a loud argument in the living room; he rolled over in his sleeping bag trying to get back to sleep, but the voices persisted. Finally, he crept from Brendan’s room and into the hallway, peeking into the room; Brendan was arguing with his mother as she held up the notebook he had been writing in for the last week. “You’re not going out there and that’s final!” she said.

 

“Mom, I have to do something! People are dying—Pokémon are dying—”

 

“And you want to die too?” she interrupted bitterly; he tried to snatch his notebook back but she held it out of reach. She was usually such a nice and easygoing person, essentially the female version of Brendan down to appearance; seeing her like that was scary.

 

“I can travel all of Hoenn but I can’t do this?”

 

“Hoenn was never explicitly dangerous before this! Pokémon killing people and people killing Pokémon… It’s just madness, Brendan!”

 

“That’s why I have to stop it—I have to!” he said furiously; her expression changed.

 

“I miss Deidrick too,” she murmured, “but although the ceremony didn’t handle it all very well, he did die a hero.”

 

“It’s got nothing to do with Deidrick,” he said quietly. “I’m just… I want to help.” She held his face forward and kissed his forehead.

 

“I know you do, but just not like this, alright? because if you die…” For a moment, Reyes could see a severe sadness in her eyes that he hadn’t seen since Brendan’s dad passed years ago; Brendan made a small sound in the back of his throat as he took her hands in his, holding them to his chest.

 

“I promise I won’t, Mom.” He started back towards his room and bumped into Reyes, who was pressed against the doorway; he stared in surprise as Reyes stared back at him. “You’ve been listening this whole time?”

 

“…Grovyle.” That was all Brendan heard anyway, and the fact was that Reyes’ actual response wasn’t any more articulate.

 

“Reyes,” he sighed, but he didn’t sound as pitiful as before, so Reyes easily let him slide to his room; he almost went too before he was stopped by Brendan’s mother.

 

“Reyes, I know he’s your best friend, so do me a big favor,” she whispered, holding his gaze. “Make sure that he doesn’t do anything reckless, okay?” Reyes nodded. “Please,” she urged. “You never defy him because you love him so much, but please, just this once…?”

 

“I promise,” he told her; relieved, she retreated back to her bedroom, shutting the light off. Reyes passed by the bathroom and noticed that Brendan had left his pajamas in there; he took them up (Brendan didn’t like to sleep in his clothes, and he didn’t sleep naked because Azalea and Kim counted as girls to him) and started to give them to Brendan, then he noticed the room was empty and the window was open—second story window.

 

“Damn you,” Reyes muttered, setting his clothes on his bed neatly and hopping onto the windowsill; Brendan had used their big Berry tree to climb down to the lawn and was sprinting down the sidewalk with the others right behind him. Reyes wanted to tell his mother, but it would take too much time; instead, he removed one of Brendon’s myosotis flowers (courtesy of his mom and her effort to beautify his teenage boy room) and used the tree to reach the lawn. He looked up at Brendan’s window and planted the pink flower in sight of it; from that, he was sure she would understand. He felt tears stream down his cheeks and wiped his face; he wasn’t going to be gone long…he would just bring Brendan back, yeah. He wasn’t going to let Brendan go out on some mindless hero’s voyage and nearly kill himself or anybody else, and he wasn’t going to let down Brendan’s mother, who took just as good care of him as Brendan had. Nope, he wasn’t going to do it.

 

“Brendan!” Reyes called, chasing after him. That was six and a half years ago.


	15. 2.4.2. Reyes, Part II

“My Gardevoir! My Gardevoir, is she okay?” sixteen-year-old Brendan shouted, pushing past the other Trainers to stand up to the receptionist Nurse Joy; she flinched back at his presence and so Reyes pulled him back. “Tell me!”

 

“Let me get your Trainer I.D.?” Nurse Joy replied, recovering from the shock; her Chansey, however, was giving Brendan the mother of all dirty looks, but he remained undaunted.

 

“I.D. #38005,” he said breathlessly. “Now—?”

 

“…Recovery room number thirteen,” she said in a clipped tone; Brendan exhaled and started down the hall, Reyes keeping position at his heel.

 

“Damn Fortree damn people…”

 

“Could be worse,” Reyes muttered as they reached room thirteen; Azalea looked almost like a doll as she laid motionless on the bed, her arms and face bandaged. Reyes had repelled the Mawile before it had done too much damage, and by then the rest of the rebels had been successfully purged from Fortree, however there were still dozens of Pokémon bedridden, some with the grim outlook of never waking up; Reyes couldn’t lie about wishing that he instead was on one of those beds, his eyes never to see again, but Brendan wouldn’t have liked it if he admitted it.

 

“Too slow,” Brendan muttered almost too low for Reyes to hear; he took Azalea’s hand, holding it so tightly his knuckles turned white. “’m always too damn slow… Damn it all.” Reyes could only watch, not knowing what to say; before, he never had that problem, especially with Brendan.

 

The last two years were…original, really; he didn’t hate helping people and Pokémon, not at all, but it was almost impossible to constantly stay on top of his game with the rebels seemingly creeping from every crevice at every opportunity. Together, the people had freed up Ever Grande City, Lilycove City, Fortree City, Pacifidlog Town, and Rustboro; everything else was either teetering in a war or just out of the question entirely. It was hard work, and had he not been a plant he would have had many scars to show it; on the other hand, Azalea, Kim, Leroy, and even Brendan did. They had been roaming Hoenn (still to Brendan’s mother’s dismay, who made every effort to call him and only ever reached Reyes) and fighting for the entire time, and it showed not only on them, but on the rest of humanity and the Pokémon on their side; they weren’t really losing, not yet, but they weren’t winning anything either. Reyes believed that that war would continue long into his life, and of course he had to be right on that one aspect of his life; then again, had that war not continued, he wouldn’t have met a lot of his new friends including Dominic.

 

Brendan had changed in all of that time, not that anybody else hadn’t; he’d become sharper with his tongue and just blunter in nature. He had developed a bad habit of going off on his own several times during day and night; most of the time Reyes believed it was to sulk, but other times there was evidence of worse things going on. He dropped Azalea’s hand and raised his head to take a deep breath, eyes closed; Reyes nearly spoke before Brendan gave a heavy exhale. “Sorry, Reyes,” he said, sitting at the foot of his bed and hanging his head. “There are lots’a things I could’ve done differently, but I really should’ve just stayed near you guys…”

 

Reyes sat with him and ruffled Brendan’s hair; when he was smaller, that was a lot easier. “It’s okay,” Reyes said, and he finally learned how to mean it. He learned a lot in his time as a revolutionary, but one of the biggest things he learned was how to not feel guilty at every event that still couldn’t have been stopped by anybody; people and Pokémon both had that vice, but he overcame it by thinking that there were people with a great deal more guilt than him, such as Brendan over Deidrick.

 

“Heh heh,” Brendan chuckled, pushing him away. “Stop it, I’m not a kid anymore.” Reyes ruffled his hair more incessantly and Brendan broke out laughing. “Stop it already, Rey! Gettin’ my cut all messed up…”

 

“You two…are so cute,” Azalea commented; both Reyes and Brendan turned to her, surprised to see that she had removed the bandages from half of her face on her own.

 

“You’re not supposed to do that,” Reyes said to her; she laughed again—well, at least that part of her face was intact.

 

“I feel fine…if a little drugged.” She sat up and finished unwinding the bandages from her head, opening her eyes and smiling at the both of them. “See?” Then she slowly put her arms around Brendan’s neck, hugging him. “Thank you for caring so much, Brendan.”

 

“I-It’s okay,” he stammered, turning red; that made Reyes break out laughing. “’m gonna get food from the cafeteria,” he muttered dismissively, standing up and quickly leaving with his hands in his pockets.

 

“He’s still such a cute boy,” Azalea commented in a musing tone, staring at the window. Reyes had a certain nagging thought that wouldn’t let him go; he didn’t want to believe it, but he had to see if it was true. “Yes,” she answered before he could even open his mouth; he had forgotten she could see the future at times.

 

“Lea…”

 

“It’s fine, truly,” she said dismissively. “I’m a Psychic-type; eyes are dispensable to me.”

 

“But not to me,” he whispered, touching her face; she held his hand with hers and closed her sightless eyes. “I remember when Brendan caught you, you were a frail little Kirlia, I a sheltered Treecko.”

 

“You were so cute, the way you followed him so much,” she chuckled. “You two would sit together for hours and hours stuffing your faces with junk food even as his mother complained and watch endless DVDs of movies, and afterwards even when you were sick to your stomachs you two would still be smiling together. I’m much less important to Brendan compared to you and your wellbeing, Reyes.”

 

“That’s… That’s so untrue…”

 

“Deidrick, rest his soul, changed Brendan in a lot of ways,” she continued. “What if _you_ got injured or worse? What do you think would happen to Brendan then?”

 

“This isn’t about me…” She laughed a little.

 

“You’re right as always, but just think about it.” Brendan returned with a couple of trays of cafeteria food; he passed the tray with a salad and a cup of Berries over and saved himself a chocolate milkshake—well, at least some habits never let up.

 

“Probably head down to Mauville after this,” he said after a big gulp, his breath coming out frosty. “Oof, cold. I heard there’s some “king” Pokémon down there that’s staring to, like, monopolize Hoenn.”

 

“Sounds like a psycho,” Reyes muttered through a mouthful of Sitrus Berries.

 

“But anyway, I got us some overnight rooms, Rey,” he said. “So we can stay here and move out in the morning.”

 

“Er…” Brendan looked at Reyes as he swallowed.

 

“Huh? You don’t like the plan?” Reyes shook his head quickly.

 

“No, I like it; we’re good to go.” Brendan looked dubious but nodded nevertheless.

 

“You’re acting weird…”

 

“Ack,” he complained, tipping Brendan’s cup when he took another drink, causing him to snort ice cream from his nose.

 

“Agh! Brain freeze! You dick!” Brendan yelled, but he was laughing at the same time; when he was in middle school Reyes used to do that trick with anything, including soda so carbonated it made his eyes fizz. Yup, some things don’t change, Reyes thought, sated, but he still had another “issue” to deal with before they left…

 

——————

 

“What? You’re leaving?” she cried; Reyes almost slipped down the soaked rocks as he rushed to cover her mouth.

 

“Please speak quieter, Lilly; I don’t want all of Fortree in my matters.”

 

“Or you just don’t want them to see you and I,” she complained, backpedaling a few feet in the dark ocean, the moonlight refracting off of her moist blue skin. It was a thankful thankful thing that Fortree was on the shore, even if it had rocks and bushes in lieu of a sandy beach; still, there was too much distance between him and her all of the time.

 

“You know that’s not it, but remember, just talking to me makes you a prime target for rebels.”

 

“I don’t care about them.”

 

“That’s what worries me…” She swam closer, bumping her head against his; he ran his hand down the curve of her neck, her skin wet but soft. “Oh, you don’t know how scared I am for your life—scared enough for the both of us and then some.”

 

“All you do is worry,” she said, “yet never quite about yourself. I am a very capable Pokémon, Rey; I can handle myself. You, on the other hand, look exhausted—your leaves are dying too. Have you been eating and sleeping properly?”

 

“Trying,” he grunted, somewhat frustrated. “I’m sorry that we can’t stay together at the moment, but you can bet all of my leaves that I will singlehandedly build a home for us that we will inhabit in the near future, close enough to the shore that we can visit each other any moment of the day.”

 

“Also, you’re betting a lot that you’ll be able to just stop what you’re doing to come back to me. You’re such an altruist I doubt that you could ever stop helping people.”

 

“I didn’t say that I would… You know, if you’re okay with the idea. I’d still be running around Hoenn trying to save one more human from slaughter, and I’m not guaranteeing that I can see you all of the time, but I swear on Arceus’ name that I’ll make my best effort to.”

 

 “I believe you,” she said honestly, closing her eyes. “…What was it again? Six months ago that we met?”

 

“Six months and three weeks,” he corrected. “Don’t underestimate my memory…”

 

_Sootopolis was, at the time, still a safe place to be in; both the rebels and revolutionaries had yet to establish home bases, and so people could still freely enter and exit both Sootopolis and Ever Grande. Brendan was with Kim and Leroy in Petalburg, and so he was alone with Azalea for a bit of reprieve. She basked in the cool pools of water gratefully, sighing in enjoyment, “Finally, a chance to relax.”_

_“I don’t like it,” Reyes grumbled, sitting on the shore. “I should be helping Brendan with the fighting, but_ no _, he says I’ve been working too hard and need a break.”_

_“You do.” Azalea gently grasped his hand, turning it so that his worn and browning leaf blades were visible; he pulled his arm from her grip with a groan. “You’re not a god; even you need breaks sometimes, whether you like it or not.”_

_“Just know that I really don’t like it.” Azalea laughed and smacked the water with her hand, dousing him. “Azalea!” he exclaimed, irritated._

_“A little water won’t hurt, Rey.”_

_“Damn it,” he muttered, rising to his feet. “I’m going to take a walk.” He went off before Azalea could interrupt, hiking up Sootopolis’ stony ledges to its collection of caves and burrows; they were made out of an interesting type of rock found only underwater, and the waters were so clear that Water-types of any species and region could swim in them. He checked the plants that grew along some cliffs, the various species that could only grow in Sootopolis’ unique ecosystem, and started wandering further from the shore without even noticing; he was so enraptured by the environment that he was almost too late to notice voices coming up from a series of out-of-the-way tide pools._

_“—and he had these adorable brown eyes—”_

_“Marla, you’re colorblind.”_

_“I mean, like, they looked pretty brown—”_

_“Marla, Wilma already said it: you’re colorblind. You’re missing out on the good stuff. Now, there was this lovely Swanna who offered me one of his Magikarp—”_

_“Yes, after you begged him for it, I bet.”_

_“Lilly, please, he was smiling—”_

_“Probably had some other fish’s scales on your face—again.”_

_“Lilly, quit embarrassing Emmi already.”_

_Reyes came to a stop on the mossy cliff that over looked the tide pool; it contained a Gorebyss, Milotic, Corsola, and the most beautiful Lapras he had ever seen. If he went by their voices, they were all female, and they were talking about guys—well, females were females. He didn’t want to intrude, and he learned at a young age that eavesdropping was a severe invasion of privacy—_ especially _when eavesdropping on females—but that Lapras was just so…_

_“Okay, Lilly, what’s your story?” the Milotic asked the Lapras, narrowing her eyes as she reclined in the icy-blue water. Lilly…what a sweet name._

_“No stories here,” Lilly replied, smiling bashfully._

_“C’mon, a Pokémon as gorgeous as you?” the Gorebyss scoffed dubiously. “Quit being coy and just tell us!”_

_“I’m telling you guys the truth,” she said, laughing a little. “Trust me, when I find a guy, my best friends will be first to know.”_

_Reyes lost his grip on the wet moss and started slipping down the cliff’s incline; he tried to root himself with his vines, but he couldn’t get them inside of the rock, and he fell from the cliff and landed in the tide pool with an enormous splash. The next fifteen seconds were a huge blank as he was choked and battered by the Water-types in a confused panic, then he was finally brought back to land by Lilly; a loud argument ensued between her friends, but she calmed them down. “Are you alright?” she asked him._

_“Y…Yeah,” he muttered, dazed and nauseous from all of the water he swallowed. “Sorry to interrupt you guys’…chat.”_

_“You better be,” the Corsola grumbled._

_“Marla, be a little nicer; he’s pretty cute after all,” the Milotic said. “Hi there, I’m Wilma.”_

_“I’m Emmi; sorry for, y’know, almost strangling you and all,” the Gorebyss said._

_“I like your friends,” Reyes said bitterly. “Polite.”_

_“We have our faults,” Lilly smiled, grateful that he wasn’t mad. “So, uh, where did you drop in from?”_

_“I was actually just…enjoying the city.” And now, I feel that I’ll enjoy it a lot more, he thought._

“How are those three doing anyway?” Reyes asked Lilly.

 

“Still searching for their own mates,” she answered with a little giggle. “They just reached that point in their lives, I guess.”

 

“And you hadn’t?”

 

“It wasn’t that I didn’t,” she said, somewhat timid. “Just… Well…”

 

“You were waiting for a guy like me, huh? The kind that makes you feel like you’re swimming through the sky and up in space at the same time?”

 

“You and your words,” she laughed.

 

“I try. Anyway, it’s late; I have to get back before Brendan notices that I’m gone.”

 

“You could just tell him, then he could make me part of his team and we could stay together,” she suggested; Reyes sighed and shook his head.

 

“You need water, which we’re not always near; I’d rather you’re healthy.”

 

“You too,” she said in a similar tone; he grimaced.

 

“Also, thank your friends; if not for them serving as messengers, it wouldn’t be so easy for me to call you.”

 

“I always do.” She pressed her cheek against his. “Bye for now, Reyes.” He hugged her neck for a long time.

 

“Bye…” He practically ran before he was compelled to stay with her.

 

Brendan was asleep with the pillow over his head when Reyes returned; thanking Arceus, he shut the window and crawled into the other bed, just about to let his guard down before Brendan spoke up: “Had a nice time?”

 

“…Arceus,” Reyes sighed, sitting up; Brendan did too, the moonlight making his eyes look grey rather than their usual blue.

 

“So? Where’d’ya go?” Reyes nodded towards the ocean. “Huh? Why?”

 

“Don’wannatalk’boutit,” Reyes murmured into his pillow, drawing the sheets over his head to hide the blush creeping over his skin.

 

“What? C’mon Reyes, what is it?”

 

“Nothing…”

 

“Okay,” he said, turning away for a moment before looking back at him. “Hey, if it was serious, you’d tell me right?”

 

“Uh-huh.” He heard Brendan lie down again and sighed in relief.

 

“She’s really something, huh?”

 

“What?” Reyes practically jumped out of his skin as Brendan laughed.

 

“Dude, you’ve snuck outta bed in every city we’ve been in; I’ve followed you the last three, but you were head-over-heels you didn’t even notice me!”

 

“I—I—”

 

“Look, you don’t have to sneak around with it,” he said, then he sobered. “And if you…y’know…wanna stay with her…”

 

“I couldn’t, not for a long time to come,” Reyes said, kicking the sheets away. “Not as long as I can be by your side.”

 

“Heh…thanks; you’re a real bud ‘til the end.” Brendan sat up again, his hands mussing his hair as they always did when he was nervous. “And I should apologize for just being so…in my feelings these last two years, ‘specially when you and Azalea and Kim and Leroy are still fine.”

 

“I don’t blame you, you’re still young,” Reyes said easily; he walked over to Brendan and grasped his hand. “And I’ll always be here too, as long as you’ll have me as your best friend.” Brendan grinned like he hadn’t in years.

 

“Always!”

 

 _REYES! BRENDAN!_ Reyes clenched his head as Azalea’s voice rang through it, and Brendan imitated the gesture as she spoke to him too. _MOVE!_

 

Not a second later, an explosion rocked the floor beneath their feet, then there was a sickly shift in Reyes’ center as the tree the Pokémon Center was based on started to fall. He instinctively reached for Brendan, who was wide-eyed with panic, but another explosion came, blowing the western wall in and throwing him onto his face; he was disoriented and felt a surge of pain run through his body as the tree hit the ground.

 

——————

 

“Reyes… Reyes, wake up!” he heard Leroy say, his claws digging into Reyes’ shoulder. He was awake, but his eyes wouldn’t open and his throat was too backed up with chlorophyll to let him speak or even breathe; his left leg was gone, his head leaf had been torn, and there were weird weights on some parts of his body. Leroy was still shaking him and saying his name, and he was starting to get tired of it…

 

“Leroy, move!” Reyes felt a warm breeze cross his face right before a much more powerful one raked over his body, stinging his skin but clearing the weights from him and allowing him to move; he felt a hand on his face, then his chest heaved and he was throwing up his own blood, his eyes tearing up from the pain and pressure. “Reyes, talk,” Azalea urged, bringing his eyes to hers.

 

“W-What…?”

 

“The rebels,” she said in a clipped tone, instantly silencing him. He looked around; the Pokémon Center was reduced to a collection of rubble just as the tree it was once standing on, and there were still more buildings falling. “I had a vision, b-but it didn’t come fast enough…”

 

“I’ll go help the fight, you get Brendan,” Leroy told Azalea before taking off towards the main battle; his words sobered Reyes up.

 

“ _Where is Brendan?_ ” He tried to stand before Azalea pushed him down; he didn’t even have a leg to stand on anyway…literally.

 

“Reyes, please, you’re hurt—”

 

“WHERE IS HE?” He started coughing again, more chlorophyll and little bits of his organs coming out. “AZALEA I SWEAR TO ARCEUS—” Suddenly his voice wasn’t there anymore no matter how hard he tried to speak; his eyes bugged as he stared at her hurt expression.

 

“Not you too, just not you too Reyes,” she whispered, tears streaming down her dirty face. “Look, I tried to… I tried, but it…it’s just…” She covered her face for a moment, sobs muffled by her palms; Reyes was struck by a numbing cold so deep it reached the very core of his being. Slowly, his voice returned to him.

 

“Let me see…” he croaked. She sniffled and nodded, standing and taking his hands. The world slowed to abysmal proportions, seconds stretching into hours and hours stretching into weeks; he was vaguely aware of every sound subconsciously, of every scent vicariously, of every sight marginally as his blood loss gave him tunnel vision. After days, Azalea slowed to a stop, her hand over his; there was a pile of wall plaster and insulation and the big PokeBall logo, and there was half a body sticking out from all of that.

 

“Ugh… Reyes?” Brendan groaned, wiping his eyes with his one good hand; Reyes fell to his knees, the world becoming brighter on top of slower. Azalea kept her hand on his, maybe to keep him from going away—he really had no idea what was going on anymore. “Damn… That hurt,” Brendan said with a broken laugh, his dirt-streaked face twisting a little in pain.

 

“B…”

 

“At least you’re mostly okay,” he continued, half-smiling as he grabbed Reyes’ free hand. “That’s great… A girl can’t love a dead guy, ‘m I right?”

 

“Bren…”

 

“Hey, don’t talk, you’ll hurt yourself,” he interrupted, his expression concerned; Reyes found that so funny he had to laugh, but he sounded manic and hollow. “Look, let’s face facts.”

 

“I don’t…I can’t…” Azalea squeezed his hand reassuringly as Brendan groaned again, a bit of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

 

“I’ve endangered myself time ‘n’ time again… Mom hates it and I knew it, yet that day two years ago, I made the wrong choice…and again and again after that I made more wrong choices… I think Deidrick’s turnin’ in his grave at this. But this isn’t about me…” He tightened his grip on Reyes’ hand, his eyes bright and alert. “Tell Mom that I’m so so sorry, and tell the guys that too, that I couldn’t be the kind a Trainer that—”

 

“No, just stop,” Reyes interrupted, his hand shaking within Brendan’s. “D-Don’t talk anymore…”

 

“Face reality,” he said a little harshly. “C’mon Reyes, smell the smoke in the air.” He turned a little to look down at the rubble obscuring his legs. “Can’t feel them anymore… Gone by now.”

 

“J-Just…hospital, okay…” Brendan shook his head.

 

“Had a good run…two of us.” He smiled, squeezing Reyes’ hand one more time.

 

“I’m not going to leave you here to die!” Reyes pulled from Azalea’s grip to push away the large chunks of concrete from Brendan’s body, but he wasn’t making progress with his one arm and one leg. Brendan frowned at him, shaking his head. He pushed harder and harder, his frustration growing each abysmal second; he wasn’t going to leave Brendan to die, not now and not ever…

 

A warm sensation filled his body, something akin to hot chocolate in the wintertime; he felt the warmth grow within him, filling his useless limbs and restoring them and making them stronger even. He felt his two tail leaves merge together into one large stem, and from them came many more leaves that itched as they grew in; his body ached as it grew suddenly without sunlight, and his joints throbbed as his limbs extended as well. His leaf blades hardened and grew strong again, and although his head leaf fell away he could feel new growths surging on his back, seed pods that itched just as badly as his tail as they pushed through his skin. He kept pushing through all of that, and finally the largest of the rubble moved; vigor renewed, he cleared more of the waste as the warmth slowly faded, feeling much stronger than ever. Tears ran down his face as he pushed away the last of the debris and saw blood completely soaking Brendan’s pants and the dirt beneath them; still, Brendan smiled at him.

 

“Sceptile… I’ve got a Sceptile now,” he whispered.

 

“Reyes,” Azalea said quietly, grabbing his arms; he fought against her grip, his new muscles working twice as well as his old ones.

 

“No! I won’t go!”

 

“I… I’m so sorry,” she whispered, pushing him away; he stumbled towards Brendan, but a nearby noise startled them away. Reyes watched an indistinct Pokémon hide in the shadows as it crept on Brendan; he looked a little scared, but otherwise accepting. Azalea covered his mouth when he tried to shout, then she covered his eyes; he was completely still for a long time, then he pushed her away, sick to his stomach. She looked horrified and there were tears streaming down her cheeks that she couldn’t wipe away. “Rey—”

 

“No,” he said hoarsely, disgusted with himself. “Just…I have to go.” He ran from her before she could stop him, pushing through the trees surrounding Fortree; he was slapped in the face by more branches he could count and tripped over by several coils of vines and roots, but still he continued until he reached the rocks overlooking the shore, then he fell to the ground and started crying until his eyes hurt and his lungs were burning.

 

“Can’t believe I missed one,” a rough voice said behind him before he detected the smell of smoke; Reyes pitched forward into the water just as a flaming fist crashed into the stone where he was seconds ago, smashing it into dust. A Blaziken was standing there in all of his flaming glory, wrists and ankles alight as he balanced agilely on one foot. “Lemme guess… You’re the same Sceptile I just saw with that half-dead human?”

 

“That was you,” Reyes said flatly.

 

“’Course. It felt great to see a human like that, and even better to sink my claws into ‘im. Wanna know what it felt like?” He jumped forward without a warning, leg out for a kick; Reyes dove under as he sunk beneath the surface, great plumes of bubbles rising from his intense heat. If Reyes expected him to be weakened by the water at all, he wasn’t, and may even have been faster as he swam towards him; Reyes swerved out of his fists’ path as he raced towards the surface, pulling himself onto the stone and running down the edge of the city. “You’re not goin’ ta outrun me, Sceptile!”

 

I know I won’t, Reyes thought, running even as he felt the Blaziken’s heat searing his tail. But maybe I don’t want to…

 

A sudden psychic pressure rippled through the air, quadruple times as strong as anything Azalea could’ve produced; it passed by Reyes harmlessly but tossed that Blaziken dozens of yards backwards until he slammed into the water at about eighty miles-per-hour. Reyes looked forward and saw an old Alakazam floating in a meditative state, eyes open and spoons twirling lazily in the air. “Are you alright?” he asked, then he answered himself, “No, you’re not; you’ve lost your Trainer.”

 

“Hey. Who the hell are you.” It wasn’t a question because Reyes neither wanted nor cared for an answer, yet he answered anyway.

 

“I’m just another revolutionary like you, my friend; I’m trying to bring us all together, because an organized force is better than a disorganized one.” He was right, but Reyes didn’t feel like fighting anymore. “It’s a sad thing to lose one you’re so close to,” he said, and Reyes could see the same sadness in Alakazam’s eyes that he himself felt. “I want to help stop that from happening to anybody else—do you?”

 

“O… I do, of course I damn well do,” he said. “I just…my mind…I can’t…”

 

The Alakazam’s feet hit the ground as he raised one of his fists, his spoon facing upwards; Reyes looked over his shoulder and saw the Blaziken freeze mid-jump, eyes blazing. “Nice surprise attack, old fart,” Blaziken said, struggling in Alakazam’s psychic grip.

 

“And I say the same to you,” Alakazam said calmly before returning to Reyes. “I will give you time to escape, then; if you should change your mind, come to Ever Grande City.”

 

Reyes didn’t know what to say and just returned to the city, watching the rebels finally falling back in the face of the revolutionaries; Kim and Leroy were heading the battle and Azalea was helping tend to the wounded even as her psychic abilities wore thin. He worked his jaw, staring at his teammates, then he turned and fell silently into the shadows. He would return to them, and he would help put the world back in order, but…not that day, not until he got over himself. That was four years ago.


	16. 2.4.3. Reyes, Part III

Reyes made a face into the cracked hand mirror, touching the purple marks beneath his eyes; he was losing sleep again to the damn nightmares. He didn’t know why they disappeared and reappeared, nor did he knew why they persisted for uneven amounts of time, but he did know that he had to hide the evidence before she noticed; easier said than done, as she noticed the smallest things. He dropped the mirror onto the sand before backing out of his little shelter; he had built it out of the occasional piece of driftwood and palm tree leaves, which aptly protected it from rain and wind, and a tightly-fitted door gave him all of the private thinking time that he needed—not that he thought of anything good, not even three years after that damn pandemonium.

 

“Reyes, what are you doing?” Lilly called from the water.

 

“Just…wondering.” He turned towards the ocean and saw her almost pacing within the water, Sunny still asleep on her shell. He smiled at the sight, finally feeling his mind ease as he trotted down the wet sand to her.

 

“You haven’t been sleeping again,” she said almost immediately, frowning at him.

 

“You don’t miss a thing, do you?”

 

“Of course not; it’s a girl thing. Tell me about it.”

 

“Nightmares,” he said bitterly. “They were different, but I kept seeing Brendan’s face…his last face…” He choked a little and Lilly lowered her head to the crook of his neck. “’m sorry, bad stuff doesn’t belong here.”

 

“I don’t want you to be sad though, so talk.”

 

“No, no, I’m fine, really…” She raised her head to narrow her eyes at him; he traced his fingers over his heart. “Swear.” Luckily she didn’t have enough time to protest, because Sunny stirred.

 

“Mornin’?” she slurred tiredly, blinking her wide eyes against the sunlight. “Hi, Momma, Daddy.”

 

“Hey, Sunshine.” Reyes put his hands under her flippers to lift her up; she was just about two feet tall, but then again she had yet to hit a growth spurt. “Sleeping late?”

 

“Mm,” she yawned. “Daddy I’m hungry, can I get fish?”

 

“Berries, Sunshine, Berries.”

 

“No! Fish!” she pouted, flapping her flippers in frustration.

 

“It’s just fish, Reyes; you and your vegan thing,” Lilly said, wrinkling her nose but still smiling. “It’s the natural order of things.”

 

“Doesn’t mean I like it. What’s wrong with my Berries?”

 

“Yucky!” she proclaimed.

 

“You know how she is when she gets like this,” Lilly said. “I’ll get some fish, alright?”

 

“…Fine,” he grumbled, setting her down on the sand; she cheered triumphantly, practically flopping around on the sand. He kept her away from the water, knowing that he couldn’t catch up to her if she started swimming, and entertained her with his seed pods; he removed two and made them blossom into large sunflowers, which she made him tie to one of the knobs on her shell. He tried getting her to eat Berries again, but at that age, if she didn’t like it she wasn’t going to anytime soon; he learned that the hard way with a lot of things. On that note, the only thing she could read and write was her own name; she didn’t bother to learn Reyes or Lilly, but and since it was her, it was still endearing.

 

“Daddy you look tired,” Sunny said as he used his mirror to play sunlight across the sand.

 

“No, I don’t; what are you talking about?”

 

“Nah! Can’t fool me! I’m a jeeneeus!” she exclaimed. “Momma says so!”

 

“She’s one to talk,” he grumbled, tossing the mirror.

 

“Why, Daddy?”

 

“It’s…well…I’ve been having bad dreams—a lot of them.”

 

“Ask Momma!” Sunny suggested, resting her flippers on his leg. “She always makes the bad dreams go away!”

 

“Not these dreams, Sunshine; trust me.”

 

“You wanna hug, Daddy?” she asked in response to the sadness in his voice.

 

“I don’t…” She tried to anyway, her flippers not quite able to bend around his body; he caved and hugged her to his chest. “Thanks, Sunshine.” He looked up and saw Lilly returning, two fish on her shell; he released Sunny to chase after her as he heard his PokeNav ring. “I’m sorry,” he told Lilly as she passed the fish onto Sunny.

 

“It’s okay, I’m used to it,” Lilly smiled. “Go help save the world again.”

 

“Never the world, sweetheart; that’s just wishful thinking.” He went back to his little shelter to open up his rucksack and answer his PokeNav.

 

“I know that I’m not interrupting, so I won’t apologize for it,” she said immediately.

 

“Still funny, Lea, and you kind of are interrupting, but enough banter.” Azalea laughed on the other end.

 

“There’s a disturbance that’s suspiciously rebel-ish in Dewford, and you’re the next revolutionary that’s oversea.”

 

“Well, about fifty miles from Dewford oversea, but why nitpick, right? And why not Kim and Leroy? They’re overzealous when it comes to fighting.”

 

“Those two are fighting in Sinnoh right now… C’mon, Rey, you won’t be spending too much time away from her; for you, this should be a piece of cake.”

 

“Even a little bit of time away from either of them is too much for me.” He glanced up when he heard Lilly coo appreciatively, Sunny giggling as well, and he pulled a face. “And thanks for making me admit that; I’ll never hear the end of it now.” Azalea started laughing.

 

“You’re so cute in love, Reyes; it makes me wistful.”

 

“…I hope you’re joking; you have too many admirers for your own good.”

 

“But I digress; can you get there with your boat?”

 

“It would probably be stretching, but yes, I suppose.”

 

“Then we’re good to go; also, Tex says beep-beep-beep-hi.” Reyes just hung up before he busted a vein at Tex’s name. He went to Lilly and put his arms around her neck; she hummed against his cheek in disappointment.

 

“Really, it won’t be long.”

 

“Be safe,” she told him as he pulled away. “Sunny, Daddy’s going away for a little bit.”

 

“What?” Sunny exclaimed through a mouthful of Magikarp. “Daddy’s always going away…”

 

“Saving the world isn’t easy to do.” He crouched down to get eye level with her. “I’ll be back before sunset, I promise.”

 

“…Okay,” she finally said. “Don’t sleep late, and if you see strange Pokémon then come straight back!”

 

“Hah… Promise.” He hugged her for a long while, relishing the feel of her heart against his chest; the first time he felt it—or more specifically, the first time he ever held Sunny—he was scared with thoughts of another life in his hands, but slowly he became used to it. He released her to the sand and she instantly clung to Lilly’s flipper, which was the same size as her little body; Lilly smiled at him as he went to the pier and untied his boat.

 

“Remember how, three years ago, I promised that we would someday live this life?” he called to her as he started the engine. “I’m making another promise: I will be able to stay with you and Sunny, and we can sit and enjoy sunsets and night swimming and everything else you want!”

 

“And have ten more kids,” she called back. It had been a long time since she could make Reyes flush in embarrassment, but her power was just as strong as ever.

 

“We’ll talk about that later!”

 

——————

Reyes wasn’t in the best condition when Lilly found him—hell, he was scarred for life, to put it lightly; he very nearly sleepwalked his way to Lilycove and its shore just to get as far from Fortree and its nightmares as possible, and even then he still didn’t feel far enough. She had been on her way back to Pacifidlog when she spotted him, and they spent the rest of the night just sitting there since Reyes couldn’t bring himself to move any farther. Then, as dawn broke across the sky, she coerced him onto her shell and took him to Pacifidlog, where she had been staying since the rebels had taken up residence in Sootopolis City; her friends were there too, Marla and Wilma and Emmi, and they took care of him for a few weeks as he tried to wrap his mind around what had happened.

 

Lilly was way, way nicer than he deserved, and he thanked Arceus every day that he could have her; she was patient through his worst days, days when he would retreat to the docks and curl up and refuse to be moved and days when he was shouting through series of nightmares. He had seen too much, seen his friends get gutted and ripped apart and trampled and eviscerated and burned and frozen and electrocuted, but Brendan was like the whisper that started the avalanche, and all of a sudden it was too much for him to take; he tried to…he wasn’t proud of it, but he tried to take his life once just to free himself from it all.

 

It was Pacifidlog; the easiest thing was for him to try to drown himself, and that was what he did when he was out of Lilly and her friends’ view. Still, she found him, and to that day she claimed that Arceus itself led her to him; she dragged him from the water and put him on land, and it was the first time she ever yelled at him, the first time she ever cried in front of him. He was stunned by the experience, and it had forever stained his mind from then on; he couldn’t give up, not yet. He apologized to her and, well, to put things censoriously, Sunny was the peaceful resolution of that.

 

After that event, Reyes started searching for Alakazam; instead, Alakazam found him, being psychic and all, and accepted Reyes’ request to join his group, the group which had officially become the revolutionaries. He spent a lot of time going in and out of Pacifidlog after that, visiting several cities in Hoenn and trying to push back the rebels; the revolutionaries didn’t succeed, obviously, but the rebels weren’t overthrowing any more cities, which gave the humans enough places to sit and catch their breath. Speaking of catching one’s breath, Reyes had to do that for a good few minutes after one return to Pacifidlog when Lilly mentioned something a damn lot more casually than she ought to have; he started making a lot more stays in Pacifidlog after that.

 

Marla, Wilma, and Emmi practically feasted on Reyes, asking him what were his plans, how was he going to take care of Lilly and their Egg, things like that; he had to wimp out then, because honest to Arceus he had no damn idea. Reyes had always been the type of Pokémon that would even pencil in tying shoes on a daily planner, so not knowing what to do was an amazing first for him, which those three preyed on like hungry Sharpedo; Lilly was the only one that kept them at bay, to which he was very grateful for, but she asked him the same questions albeit less furiously. She was a little anxious to discover he had no clue, but still remained as patient with him as ever, and he realized how truly he loved that woman.

 

She laid her Egg four weeks after that, and Reyes quickly learned the feeling of a panic attack; the Egg was six inches tall and covered in a thin teal shell that he was too scared to even breathe on. A local was kind enough to take their Egg to a Pokémon Center for a checkup, as Lilly couldn’t walk with her flippers and Reyes still didn’t want to hurt the Egg, and the resident Nurse Joy told them that kept properly hydrated, the Egg would hatch in another four weeks; he left that to Lilly since she was always in the water, and even though he still had to pass in and out of Pacifidlog, he passed a PokeNav onto the three girls with a promise that they would give him consistent updates. He forgot that they were, after all, girls, and they spammed him with their admittedly-dull encounters with males, but the occasional piece of good information he got kept him going.

 

The reason why they called her Sunny was funny to everybody except Reyes, who found it a bit embarrassing. When he was still a Grovyle and was getting a visit from Lilly while in a small oversea town, they started talking about the weather; she loved sunny days because warm water felt so good to swim in, but Reyes conversely enjoyed rainy days because plants could flourish because of the extra water and also because of his gloomy attitude. She, at one point, joked that if he ever had a kid, he would name it Rain because of how hotly he protested the economic value of a rainy day; in the same spirit, he said that she would name her kid Sunshine. He wasn’t too far off in the end; when she hatched from the Egg, no bigger than Reyes’ hands and pale greyish-blue like a lightly-clouded sky and curious and a little giggly, Lilly revisited their conversation and decided that the name was very perfect for her. They officially named her Sunny that day, and from that day on they were a family.

 

He saw the disturbance in Dewford before he even docked there; it was a bunch of batty rebels, coincidentally in the Zubat family, led by a belligerent Slaking that made short work of Crasher Wake’s Pokémon. The species was slow and lazy—well, except for Vigoroth—but when they were motivated enough to move, they could tear down with their high reserves of strength; Reyes held back a bit as he moored his boat, then he hit the shore and started running. The Slaking was a snore away from taking down somebody’s house with his fists before Reyes tangled his wrists with vines, binding them to the sand; he gave an angry grunt as his eyes set on Reyes coming up on the beach.

 

“Revolutionary?” he slurred, saying it like any words further than “Lemme sleep” were an effort to get past his lips.

 

“Who else?” Reyes bound the Slaking’s other wrist as well, tying it down against a light post. “Look, I absolutely do not have time for this at the moment, so if you could just so kindly _lay down and die_ I’d like to be back on my way to Pacifidlog’s shore forthwith.” Reyes was too pretentious for his own good; half of his multi-syllable words flew right over the Slaking’s head in his state. He tightened the vines to ensure that he couldn’t break through even on one of his better days and began to dial the police’s number on his PokeNav; the nearest Jenny was in Petalburg, which meant that she could take a boat to Dewford. He himself liked using Mr. Briney’s boat; he was a nice old fellow, and his Pelipper alongside her baby Peeko were nice company. (He was also slightly embarrassed to admit that Peeko’s mother turned him into one of those parents that showed off pictures of their children; he didn’t mind showing pictures of Sunny, not at all, but he had always been a “cool” guy, at least in his opinion.)

 

Suddenly his PokeNav went flying from his hands into the water and he was flat on his back with a purple rat sucking the chlorophyll from his shoulder; he swatted the Zubat away only to get three more in its place, and they were covering a lot of ground considering their size. He didn’t have any leaves to work with since they were on an island of majority sand and rocks, and he could only produce vines from bare skin, which he was very much lacking with three Bat Pokémon getting their fill of him. He had to wonder how they didn’t get sick—blood was a lot different from chlorophyll after all—but then another thought occurred to him: for photosensitive Zubat to be in direct sunlight, they had to have been domestically trained, but surely not by that somnolent Slaking. He bent his head backwards to look at the water, and he put all of his energy into dragging it forward; a small bit of it hit the sand about three inches further than the rest. He continued pulling it mentally, his brain hurting from the effort, and eventually the water was touching his skin; with one final groan he swept the Zubat away with it, dragging them under so that their wings were held down by the water’s weight and letting them be swept out to sea.

 

“Nice trick,” a Crobat said, the only Crobat in the bunch; it stood out from the pair of Golbat and the other handful of pesky Zubat. “You’re a Grass-type though.”

 

“It doesn’t matter; every type as an affinity for all moves, but it becomes harder the farther the difference between your type and the move’s. To be honest, that has drained me alongside your pets.”

 

“I haven’t had my fill yet, so don’t keel over.”

 

“It will take a lot more than you all to send me to Hell, I can tell you that.” Reyes moved to tangle the Crobat in his vines, but it was a lot faster than him, especially when he was so exhausted, and considering that the real fight hadn’t even started yet, he was damned. He wanted to call Azalea but his PokeNav was probably confusing the hell out of some bottom-feeder Pokémon at the moment, and her telepathy was nowhere near strong enough to reach him all the way across Hoenn; on that note, Alakazam’s telepathy probably wasn’t that strong either…probably. Just in case, he made sure that his thoughts were extra frantic, even if he kept his poker face while the Crobat darted around him, fangs leaving little pinpricks in Reyes’ skin as it nipped him repeatedly.

 

Reyes focused the sunlight down into his body, then he redirected it at the Crobat; the issue with that was that it was moving much too quickly for him to catch and much too wildly for him to guess with. He brought the sunlight down and fried the foundation of the light post holding the Slaking in place, then he grabbed the severed vines and pulled as hard as he could; he probably permanently damaged his arms with the weight and force, but he slammed the tower down away from any houses to fill the air with sand. The bats panicked, blinded, and started shrieking to detect his location; he jumped from the ground and braced himself against the wall of a rocky ledge before propelling himself forward onto a house’s tiled roof, then he pushed off again to grab onto the disoriented Crobat, tying its wings together with his vines. He hit the wall of the Pokémon Gym hard enough to crack it, then he strung his vines around the Gym logo before jumping forward again with the vines trailing behind him; he managed to catch the frantic Zubat within the net, but the Golbat and Slaking were still free.

 

“Graaah, damn revolutionary!” the Slaking roared as the air cleared; he brought his fist down on the Gym to smash it to bits, then swung his other hand in the same move to swat Reyes from the air like a bug, slamming him down into the ocean hard enough to leave bruises. The good part was that the Slaking hurt his subordinate; the bad part was that he hurt all parts of Reyes bad. He dragged himself back to the shore, opening his seed pods to the sunlight; still, it wouldn’t work fast enough when he had to keep moving. He rolled out of the way as the Slaking roared past, then Reyes sliced his blades down in between the Slaking’s shoulder blades; crimson blood spurted over his skin, staining it a nasty shade of pink-purple as the Slaking started running, swatting down his cohorts in his frenzy. He started to stray closer to the homes and Reyes, thinking on his feet, dug his right blade in deeper, paralyzing the Slaking’s right arm.

 

“Stop and back away from the people,” Reyes warned. “Do that or you might just leave with one less arm than you came with.” Of course, he was bluffing; even at full power, his leaf blades couldn’t cut through thick and solid bone and muscle like that. He realized that the Slaking had stopped moving and chalked it up to blood loss, sliding from his back to the sand; he started rifling through his rucksack for a cellphone—there was actually a good chance he’d over-packed, as he was that meticulous at times—but found that he was really stuck. The Dewford dwellers were still shell-shocked from the attack despite its minor scale; he did hear from Crasher Wake’s Pokémon that somebody had already called the authorities, however, and that they were well on their way. He focused on tying up the Slaking when he noticed that the Crobat’s goonies were gone from his vines; a few Zubat on their own weren’t too much trouble, maybe a few dead Mareep or something similar would mark their presence, but those guys seemed a little smarter than the usual brainless followers. He felt the Slaking stir beneath him a second before he gave a huge roar and rose to his feet, throwing Reyes back against the rocky cliffs hard enough to smash his seed pods; he fell on his face in the hot sand, his mind and vision blurring.

 

“What’d you say before? Ya had to be at Mossdeep or somewhere? Well, doesn’t matter if I don’t remember; Batty does, fa sure.” Reyes could barely understand him through the blood rushing in his ears, but he understood the implications well enough: he had, as he expected, put his family in danger. And it was his fault. His fault… He was losing the people important to him yet again because of his own carelessness, his own fault, his own stupidity…

 

——————

 

Reyes was startled awake by something licking his face; he opened his eyes and saw a police Manectric standing beside an Officer Jenny. Dewford was full of police herding away the rebel Pokémon and Nurse Joys and repair Pokémon and—

 

“Pacifidlog!” he shouted when he finally regained his wits, pushing Jenny and her Pokémon away to stand up; the action made him see stars from how fragile his body was to begin with. “I have—to get—to Pacifidlog!”

 

“Dude, chill out!” the Manectric said, sparking defensively; Reyes could’ve cared less if he was deep fried.

 

“I have to get to Pacifidlog…” He looked at the sky and saw the sun was setting whereas it was noon before; he had lost too much time already. He went past them, moving fast despite the bad limp he had in one of his legs, and found that his boat was still there, albeit crowded by several police boats; he also could’ve cared less that he scratched all of them on the way out, as his mind was focused on one thing, as hard as that was with the pain warring for priority.

 

The ride back to Pacifidlog felt doubly long, and that sense of time stretching to infinitesimal proportions was so much like that day three years ago that he almost had a breakdown right there in the middle of the ocean, but he pushed forward; he finally saw Pacifidlog miles before he reached it, and he was probably ruining the boat’s engine gunning it so hard. He reached the end of the beach and hopped onto the sand before the boat even stopped, nor caring to dock it properly; he moved as quickly as he could, his heart racing like it hadn’t in a long time, and reached the telltale marks of the part of the shore that they called home. He slowed, then he stopped.

 

“Arceus, Lilly…”

 

His shelter had been tugged apart, the meager belongings he kept inside tossed all over the beach. Maybe it was Arceus, but he found his hand mirror first; he picked it up and saw his despair looking just as severe as it felt. He moved farther and found more: Sunny’s first shed skin; old wishbones; a knob from Lilly’s shell; sunflowers… He felt something under his foot and realized that it was buried within the sand; he bent over to dust it clean and—

 

Reyes bolted from his spot, his head spinning and his stomach clenching; he threw up somewhere, then he threw up again out of sheer panic. _Sunny,_ was all he could think. Arceus, why be so damn cruel!?

 

_...If Sunny’s…there…then where’s Lilly…?_

_Do I even want to know?_

He slumped down on the sand, unsure, but no tears would fall; it seemed like he had finally run out. He crouched there for a long while, refusing to blank out again, refusing to crack; he still had a job to do, and even if he had to duct tape his very soul together to do it, then he would. People and Pokémon counted on him to “save the world” … Lilly and Sunny counted on him… Azalea and Kim and Leroy and Deidrick counted on him… Sunny and Brendan were counting on him…

 

He found his PokéNav—well, a spare—buried a few feet away; he cleaned the sand from it enough for it to work, and he dialed the number. “BZZT BZZT—SECRET— _beep_ —CODE PLEZZZ?”

 

“Tex… Tex it’s me…”

 

“REYES-REYES? WHY DO YOU SOUND-ND SO…?”

 

“It doesn’t matter; just bring a bag to this location… A little one.” Tex was quiet as it processed that; it didn’t understand emotions like sadness or despair, but it could understand pain to a certain degree.

 

“YEAH— _bzzt autocorrect ‘YES’—_ YES, I WILL-ILL DO IT; DO— _emphasize ‘YOU’—_ YOU NEED ANYTHING?”

 

“I…

 

“…”

 

“HN?”

 

“Time, Tex, just time.” He hung up and let the Pokénav hit the sand with a heavy breath, and Reyes sat back to watch the sun set. “And a lot of it.” That happened just one year before he was given his fated task to meet Dominic.


	17. 2.5. No Escape Except To Die

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

“The hell is that…?” Dominic muttered, turning his ears away from the repetitive noise. Still, it persisted, and he would’ve killed somebody if it meant stopping it. Finally, he gave in and cracked his eyes open, but instead he found himself out of the Pokémon Center and lying on a coastline somewhere. The sky and sea were both dark, and by the smell of salt in his fur despite being far into the sand, it was a high-tide day. “…Where am I?” he wondered aloud. Aside from sea salt and a bit of metal, the air was tasteless. For all he knew he could’ve been on another planet, since all he could see in any direction was sand or ocean.

 

Suddenly the wind began to pick up, his mane blowing away from his face as dark thunderclouds rolled in and swirled around the sky. His heart ached a little bit as if he’d seen it all before, yet it was completely unfamiliar to him, but still something deep inside of him felt pained. He tried to push himself onto his feet but found that he was lacking a lot of strength at the moment, and although he hated acting so primal he had to walk on all fours. He heard a noise and raised his ears, staring hard at the blurred horizon. Though his eyesight was hampered by the extreme darkness (huh, that was new) he thought he could see a boat in the distance.

 

“Hurts,” he groaned, covering his head and falling onto his stomach. “Everythin’ hurts like all Hell…” There was that and that beeping that still raged in the back of his mind, although it was quickly picking up speed to match his racing heart. “Hurts… I hate pain… Hate-hate-hate-hate it…”

 

“Then just die,” the King said, grabbing a fistful of Dominic’s hair and bringing his head up. His eyes were like flashlights cutting through the darkness as he looked towards the ocean, mouth curled into a snarl. “Then the pain will be gone and so will you, and I won’t have to hear your pathetic whining.”

 

“Wha’s… Wha’s goin’ on? Where are we?”

 

“Exactly where we last were,” he answered. “Just as every other time your psychotic mind sees me, it’s an illusion. You’re still drugged like a wild animal in the Pokémon Center and I’m still trapped there with you, unable to move and barely able to speak.”

 

“I’m what?” He heard that beeping pick up again and dug his claws into the sand with irritation. “Arceus can that damn sound stop already?”

 

“It could, but then you’d die,” he said flippantly. “And anyhow, I need to have a word with you.”

 

“R-Really? What about?” King didn’t answer him directly, but he released Dominic to fall back into the sand.

 

“About that horrible show you had with that Sharpedo.” He suddenly reared back and kicked Dominic in the stomach, sending him rolling across the sand until he came to a stop on his side. “I am the King; I don’t get knocked around like a ragdoll,” he growled, fur bristling as the wind picked up. Dominic blinked through the pain and saw the beginning of a torrent soaking into the sand. “You’re _weak_ , Dominic. You’re my inferior and I can’t for the life of me understand why you’re dominant.”

 

“’Cause… ‘Cause I know restraint,” he coughed, rubbing his abdomen as he shifted to his elbows. “’Cause I know not to kill ev’ry-damn-body I run into…unlike you.”

 

“Those who are weak deserve to die and that includes you.” King struck his claws together, creating sparks that quickly died in the downpour. “This is an illusion and so I can do whatever I want to you.” He suddenly leapt forward with the speed of lightning, which was completely unnecessary with Dominic’s already-dulled reflexes. He buried his claws to the hilt in Dominic’s chest, and it was maybe three seconds before blood spurted around them like cracks in a dam. He opened his mouth to gasp but more blood came out instead, causing him to break into a coughing fit as he tried to clear his throat to breathe. The King smirked as he pulled his claws free, the blood flow increasing, then he slowly began to tear and peel as one would with an orange, picking away Dominic’s fur to bare his skin which quickly joined his fur on the ground. “And it will still feel so real to you.”

 

“S-Stop,” Dominic begged, nearly choking on blood and bile. “P-Please…”

 

“Not until my claws are buried to the hilt in your innards.” Dominic was stunned; he never remembered the King being so forceful. It was his fault for his moment of weakness, he figured, as had he not been so incapacitated by that Sharpedo, it wouldn’t have been so easy for King to take control. The rain fell even harder over them and Dominic could feel the waves lapping at his side on top of that, worsening the pain in his chest.

 

“K-Kin’…” He could barely hold his eyes open anymore as he watched the last of his blood leak into the sand. He saw the King laugh as he gripped Dominic’s snout, shaking his head from side to side.

 

“I hope you’re not going to sleep already, Dom, because my fun isn’t over yet. Look, this right here will kill you right away.” He tapped a claw on the center of Dominic’s throat before dragging it down to the base of his neck. “This will paralyze you.” He finally set his hand to rest just a few inches from the edge of Dominic’s torn chest. “And this will make you suffocate. And guess what? I’ve learned all of that from watching you. Let’s see how long I can stretch this out.” He pulled his claw back far enough that the rain quickly washed the blood from his fur. Dominic stared at the blurred image wearily, wanting to sleep but knowing that he had a chance of not waking up again.

 

_Have to…have to stay awake…_

_Can’t join Mom and Dad yet…_

_Need to fight for…need to fight for Reyes… Need to fight for me…_

_I need to LIVE._

Everything came to a complete stop. The rain, the waves, the King… They all froze in their movement as if somebody had pushed “pause” on that fake world. He sat up, his expression calm as he laid his eyes on the King’s claws, suspended just an inch from the fur of his snout. “I’m dom’nant, right?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before he continued, “So this ‘s my illusion to control.” He stood up, his body feeling in one hundred percent condition rather than the drugged state he was actually in, and grabbed the King’s wrist, startling him back into animation.

 

“But—I’m—stronger!” he protested, trying and failing to pull from Dominic’s grip.

 

“No, we’re equal,” he corrected. “It’s ‘cause of that that ya haven’t beaten me yet, and it will always be ‘cause of that that ya won’t ev’r win, King.” For a moment his own illusion dropped, revealing the scarred body he always hid from the world. The permanent bruises from the jabs and kicks of Fighting-types; the burn scars from the scorching punches of Fire-types; the stitches were ingrained Leech Seeds of Grass-types had to be surgically removed; the missing part of his ear from a particularly irate Arcanine; and one couldn’t forget the hole in his chest that nearly killed him, the one created by the overgrown piece of fried chicken whose talons he had been kissing until Reyes came along. None of that included the scars that he made himself, wanting to get free from the nightmares and The Nightmare himself. “If none a these could take me out, _you_ sure as hell can’t.”

 

“So the Dominic has grown a spine now,” he muttered with an almost disgusted tone, still twisting his arm around. “I wonder how long that’s going to last.” Dominic released him with a smirk.

 

“Or we can wonder how long _you’ll_ last, King.”

 

——————

 

Dominic could barely open his eyes they felt so heavy. He couldn’t move either aside from breathing—actually, he wasn’t even breathing, damn it, it was a damn tube in his damn throat making him breathe and damn it was so itchy he wanted to rip it out. _Rip it out…_ Ooh, now he remembered.

 

“You’re awake,” a tired voice said. Dominic turned his head as much as he could to look at Reyes, who was sitting in a visitor’s chair next to his bed. He looked downright exhausted like he hadn’t slept in days, arms crossed over his chest and posture slumped. It was the weakest Dominic had ever seen Reyes and he hated the part of himself that found it funny.

 

“Mph,” he mumbled, his tongue feeling too dry to manipulate. Reyes rolled his head around a little, waking himself up, then he picked up a glass of water from the nightstand and lifted Dominic’s head with his other hand before putting it to his mouth. He got more water in his fur than in his throat, but it was enough to get rid of that sawdust feeling. “Shanks.” Apparently it wasn’t enough to fix his slur.

 

“You’re welcome.” He set the glass down and all but fell back in the chair with a sigh.

 

“Ya look tired.”

 

“I am tired,” he replied, holding his eyes wide open with his claws for a moment. “Do you remember how we’re being hunted by the rebels and the revolutionaries?” Arceus, how could he forget? “No matter how big of a city we’re in, some are bound to find us.”

 

“And ya…ya fought ‘em back…alone?” He didn’t like the idea that Reyes was risking himself for him, and apparently it showed on his face to because Reyes grunted in dissent.

 

“It’s honestly not such a big deal… Don’t work yourself into a frenzy over it. I’m a guardian by nature.”

 

“N…No,” he protested, struggling and straining to lift his arm past the pain and the medication. Reyes watched with a displeased expression as Dominic grabbed the breathing tube shoved into his nostrils and started tugging.

 

“Dominic, what in hell are you doing to yourself?” he demanded.

 

“’m…’m gonna fight…fer mahself…so ya don’…hafta…” He continued tugging, creating a gross sensation in his throat, until the damned thing finally came out, whereupon he rediscovered just how injured his lungs were and how incapable they were of properly respiring at the moment. He tried not to panic, keeping his expression blank, but his body quickly became desperate for more air. He was on the edge of passing out before it suddenly became way easier to breath.

 

“You can’t do everything by yourself—nobody can,” Reyes said, pointing at his back. Dominic saw that his seed pods had sprouted into large sunflowers, the photosynthesis making more oxygen in the room. “Alakazam tried to help pokémonkind and humankind but failed, hence the revolutionaries. Blaziken wanted to combat humankind but failed, hence the rebels. And you can’t get yourself out of these dilemmas on your own, hence myself.”

 

“…” He was getting that feeling again, the same feeling that preceded the demise of his parents (he believed) and Skarmory and Steven. And those voices too…those arceusdamn voices…jeez, who in hell took out his earplugs? “People that help me…end up dead…”

 

“Guess what?”

 

“H…Huh?”

 

“Despite how many times you’ve tried so far…” Reyes extended his arms with a smug smile. “I’m not dead yet.”

 

 _He isn’t. He isn’t dead._ The realization felt like a lightning strike on his head. Reyes _wasn’t_ dead, was he? And the King tried—oh, how the hard the King tried!—but in every instance Reyes bounced back. Nobody in Dominic’s life had ever survived him so long, not one person… Not one person except Reyes. Maybe Dominic _did_ have a chance after all. The thought brought on a feeling so strange that he didn’t know what to do. It felt like something had used Bubblebeam in his stomach, except it made him want to giggle rather than cry out in pain. He started laughing, his every muscle protesting as he became louder, clenching his stomach and kicking his legs as he went practically rolling.

 

“I must’ve missed the joke,” Reyes said blandly.

 

“No joke,” he laughed. “’m… ‘m jus’ so damn happy.” He fell back onto the bed, extremely sore but unable to get over himself. “Happy… Ya know how long it’s been…?” He let his eyes close with a sigh, exhausted.

 

“I thought you were always happy or at least optimistic.” Dominic shrugged a shoulder.

 

“I…I thought so too…but turns out…I was foolin’ mahself…”

 

Reyes’ eyes widened a little as the door opened, allowing a Nurse Joy and her Chansey inside. Nurse Joy checked Dominic’s monitors and medication while her Chansey checked on the man himself. He remembered how, nearly a century ago, Reyes took him to the Pokémon Center in Rustboro and that Chansey made him so uncomfortable. Now he felt so relaxed he was practically asleep. “You’re recovering nicely,” the Chansey commented. “Another few days and you’ll be good as new!”

 

“You’ll find I heal quick,” he replied with a grin. She tutted disapprovingly before her eyes landed on Reyes.

 

“Hello Marjorie,” he greeted.

 

“And you, Mr. Reyes, should leave,” she said, although it was less annoyed and more Do-I-have-to-say-this-every-day? It really clinched the fact that Reyes had spent a long time just watching him, and it made Dominic feel like a total wipeout to have lost so badly just to get Reyes watching over him like a nanny when he clearly wasn’t and especially when they couldn’t afford to stay in a single place at any time, what with the rebels and revolutionaries and all. “He needs his rest.”

 

“Me too,” he muttered, “but I can’t leave just yet. I have to watch him.”

 

“There are doctors and nurses here for that!”

 

“Yes, and no offense to their skills, but I don’t care. If a friend is down, I won’t remove myself from his or her sight until they can rise again,” he said hotly.

 

Reyes is a good Pokémon, Dominic thought.

 

Then, He deserves a lot better than a twisted freak like me. Damn it…

 

“He needs to be alone,” that Chansey persisted. “Unless you want him to stay in this condition?” Reyes clenched his jaw and looked so close to grinding his teeth.

 

“Go,” he whispered to Reyes. He looked like he wanted to protest, but at the same time it sounded like the command he’d been waiting for, like a soldier that just had to keep fighting until his general told him to stop.

 

“I’ll be back,” he said in a low voice, getting up and nearly falling over before regaining his balance, yet he still managed a somewhat good exit. Nurse Joy looked at her Chansey, who nodded and handed her a small plastic-wrapped package. She opened it up to reveal a syringe that immediately shot Dominic’s nerves. That damned Chansey told him not to worry among other things, which made him worried and therefore made the King worried. _He_ was already pissed enough with being drugged all the time considering how slow-minded it made him, and Dominic didn’t need another near-death experience.

 

“N-No,” he protested, his arms feeling too heavy to move. “Don’t…”

 

“Don’t worry, we’re only trying to help you,” that Chansey said as Nurse Joy injected the contents into an I.V. bag.

 

“Sh-Shleep,” he croaked. “Don’ wan’…shleep…”

 

“It’ll help you heal.”

 

“N-No…don’…undershta…” He sighed as his eyes closed and sort of consigned himself to whatever came next.

 

——————

 

Dominic wasn’t in that weird beach anymore, but instead he was somewhere he recognized a lot better: the shore outside of Steven’s house. He sat on the front steps, which were a little damp with ocean spray, and stared at the sunrise until his eyes started to hurt. There was darkness in him, which was something Dominic always knew, but as soon as he realized it had a potential of—of killing those important to him, he made a point of being a vagrant and even staying in Mauville City, where his (or more specifically, the King) had gained a reputation strong enough for him to be steered clear of. He had peace of mind and peace of soul until Reyes came along and gave him something to care about again, and if he had to be honest, he hated him for that.

 

“Hate is good,” the King said, sitting next to him. “Hate is like Berries to me.”

 

“Yer…not gonna kill me.”

 

“Can’t.” He crossed his arms over his chest, which looked to be much more effort than it was. “You’re the one calling shots, remember?” he asked bitterly.

 

“Yes…this is my body,” he remembered. “It jus’ gets jacked so damn much I forget. I’m the one in charge, ain’t I? I’m Dominic—”

 

“And I’m Rex,” he interrupted in the same tone. “I may not be what you _are_ , but I am what you were _supposed_ to be.” He gave Dominic a pointed look before staring at the water, which was clear compared to its steely color earlier. Dominic realized that it was the first civilized conversation he ever had with that guy, and if it had to be caused by enough drugs in his body to take down a Pokémon army, so be it, because as the King said, Dominic possessed his own body, but most of his mind and soul was King’s, as most of his mind and soul were comprised of darkness. It was so bad that even his darker memories belonged to the King, which put those annoying holes in his mind that made remembering the simplest things so arceusdamn difficult.

 

“I’m not s’posed to be anythin’,” he muttered. “I’m s’posed to be alive…but not even that. But I’m not s’posed to be _you_ and that’s for sure. I’m better than that—Reyes believes that and so I believe it too.”

 

“Reyes,” he repeated hotly. “What does he know? Was he there? Was he _ever_ there? No! _I_ was.”

 

“It don’t matter if he was or wasn’t there.”

 

“It makes all the difference,” he persisted. “Look, Dominic, when it all comes down to it, I’m your only friend.” Dominic snorted. “Snort all you want but it’s true. I’m the only one to know every dark crevice of you and not go away.”

 

“Because you’ve committed half those crimes in my name!”

 

“A guy needs to sharpen his claws every once in a while—that’s Pokémon nature. That’s _dark-type nature,_ ” he continued heatedly. “We steal, attack, fornicate, and even kill, but it all comes down to what Arceus itself wanted for us. If we were supposed to be all goody-goody two leaves like your BFF over there, then we would’ve been fairy-types or something, but guess what? We’re not. We’re not good guys and we won’t ever be. We were born to be antagonists, born to be that insurmountable Yang of the world, and even if you try to forget and ignore it, even if you believe that Professor What’s-his-face’s bull-crap about finding your way into the light, I can promise you that there will _always_ be something that will drag you back down to the deepest pits of Hell where _we_ wait.”

 

“…No,” Dominic said, but he hesitated, which the King picked up on immediately.

 

“You may think you’re immune to my spiel, but you believe it already—I can feel it. Don’t ever forget what you are beneath that happy-go-lucky veneer, because things have a way of blowing up in your face when you least expect them to. Reyes doesn’t quite hate you now, but he will when he realizes what you’re _really_ capable of. Or should I say _the King_ ,” he laughed.

 

“You wouldn’t,” Dominic growled.

 

“You know me,” he replied cryptically, licking his sharp teeth and claws. They were the teeth and claws of a predator, able to tear through skin and muscle like paper to reach their prize. He had used those teeth and claws many times throughout his life to reach an end, using them as survival tools and bargaining pieces and backscratchers, anything he pleased. His illusions were also methods, turning any pleasant dream into a sickening nightmare that ended with that one’s death. He was just built to kill, unlike Reyes who had seed pods to revive others and powers to regrow flora. It didn’t make sense to fight those urges of his, the innate need to destroy everything that he touched.

 

“Maybe you and I…aren’t that different,” Dominic admitted quietly. The King practically beamed at that.

 

“I knew you’d see the light,” he said before cackling at his own joke.

 

“Although not in the way that you think,” he added. The King just sighed and covered Dominic’s eyes with his claws.

 

“You still want to be so difficult… Let me show you how alike we are.”


	18. 2.6. Unworthy Blasphemous Soul

King had never been “awake” per say despite his immense strength, and that was only because at the end of the day, he was just a sub-personality. However, the effort to keep him restrained was too much to comprehend, and just “letting go” made Dominic feel like he lost two tons of weight.

 

He opened his eyes and grimaced, though it wasn’t exactly _him_ doing the grimacing. He squinted a little at the room’s bright lights, shielding his eyes with his claws and making a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. He made to sit up but found that his muscles were severely weakened by the medication on top of their original injuries, however it took him but a moment to get used to the feeling and tear the I.V. needle from his wrist. Blood spurted out in a thin stream for a moment before he covered it with a small roll of bandages. He cracked his neck and shoulders, trying to reacquaint himself with that peculiar ethereal feeling, just as the door opened and that irritating Chansey bustled in with a tray of food.

 

“Oh!” she gasped, seeing him rising to his feet. “You shouldn’t be—”

 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he interrupted, waving his claws in her face. “Nobody tells the King what to do or what not to do.” He grabbed her head, startling her and causing her to drop the tray to the linoleum with a clatter. He didn’t even need to do an attack, he just growled at her and she fainted. Well, it helped that he had the growl of a wild beast. He bent down to salvage what remained of the Luvdisc and Jell-O, as he wasn’t getting anywhere on an empty stomach, and found that they didn’t taste too bad for hospital food. He combed his claws through his hair, grimacing in annoyance when he found it tangled, and shook it loose, inadvertently dropping Dominic’s precious collection. “Well, it’s not exactly my problem at the moment,” he decided, leaving them scattered across the ground—well, he did take up a photo of him as a young Zorua with Steven. That, he felt a need to keep. The King did have a beating heart after all.

 

He heard a phone buzzing and rooted through Dominic’s possessions to find the rebels’ cellphone. Without even checking it, he crushed it between his claws. It didn’t matter anyway, as the King served himself only, not some overgrown and undercooked fried chicken with an attitude problem—well, that was the pot calling the kettle black, but still. He glanced at the window and found that it was unlocked and that that area of Lilycove City was amazingly scarce. It must be my lucky day, he thought with a smirk.

 

He jumped through the window and remembered just in time that he was on the second floor. He grabbed his legs and rolled into a ball, using his voluminous mane to catch himself as he hit the sandy ground. It was a good thing that his mane was empty, as otherwise most of Dominic’s possessions would have speared him like a spit. He got to his feet lightly and dusted himself off, shaking his hair free of bits of sand before cracking his joints for good measure.

 

“…Oh?” he smirked, detecting a certain scent in the air. It wasn’t Reyes, but Dominic would have to thank him anyway. He started walking and maybe made three steps before the pain brought him down to his knees. Oh, the limitations of Dominic’s body were quite annoying. He just didn’t train enough—physically anyway—as if he had, that paltry amount of pain caused by that recalcitrant Sharpedo wouldn’t have meant a Rattata’s behind. Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and so if the King had to roam about on all fours like some sort of untrained beast because he could barely stand upright, then so be it.

 

King was surprised; aside from a few “Is that a Unova Pokémon?” comments, he went more or less unnoticed within Lilycove. Then again, he didn’t run into too many Pokémon that weren’t Trainer-owned, as the wild ones had a better chance of being rebels/revolutionaries. Nevertheless, he made a point of sticking within the shadows of the city, even if the shadows were scarcely to be found with the bright light of day filling every nook and cranny. Honestly, the sheer sunlight in that area was giving him a horrible skin rash, not to mention the proximity of the usual tourist crowds and the irritation of losing that scent within the humans’ mass one. He snorted in distaste, wishing for just one second to bathe his claws in—

 

_KING CONTROL YOURSELF_

 

“Damn you,” the King muttered, feeling his body momentarily stiffen. He would always be just a side character to Dominic’s story, after all, even if it was his dream to be the protagonist. He backed into an alley to clear his personal space and his mind as he took a deep breath. There it was again: street vendors, human sweat, sex, drugs, and…that guy. The King let his eyes rise to the Lilycove Museum. Just above it, a distant figure circled restlessly in the air. His nostrils flared as he breathed in the sweet scent of scales and dragon blood, and he allowed himself a smirk as he started scaling the building closest to him, using his claws to dig into the weak plaster of the wall. He climbed onto the roof of the building and scaled the small weathervane on it for extra height, nearly catching that guy’s eye. He had to laugh at the thrill of a new hunt, stopping for a few seconds to catch his breath through the raging pain in his lungs and ribcage. It really sucked having such a weak body to work with.

 

He pushed off from the weathervane and landed at the edge of the roof, staring down into the alley between the buildings until he jumped again to land on the higher one. It seemed that he was atop the Lilycove Department Store, as there was a nice patio on the room with fake plants and benches to rest on. He stared at the people up there, people and Pokémon alike, and felt a low growl building in the back of his throat. A little Caterpie with a grown Butterfree approached him then, eyes wide and curious, and it took all of his strength not to tear them down right then and there. “The hell are you all looking at?” he growled. They scattered like leaves in the wind, and in time as well.

 

“It’s you!” Salamence screeched from his position above the Lilycove Museum. His great wings blew up a storm as he flapped over, startling the easygoing residents from their rest and back into the safety of the store as he landed. Just as King remembered, the Salamence still had a big scar on his left hind leg and a missing right wing—not that it slowed him down in any wing. That remaining wing of his had the power of five, as that was the strength of an ex-Elite Four, and his raw emotion doubled that power.

 

“Maybe not the _me_ you’re looking for,” King tried, smirking, but Salamence wasn’t going to hear any of that as he released an incomprehensible Flamethrower. Just the heat of it burned Dominic’s skin like weeks standing in the sun, melting away the plastic and fabric of the seats around them and burning the faux rubber plants. He put up his own fire as the torrent of flames enveloped him, feeling his skin prick and itch from the intense eat as his hellfire barely held up. The Flamethrower ended just in time for King’s flames to scatter, severely weakened, and he watched Salamence rear up on him, great maw open and needle teeth glinting in the sunlight.

 

The King braced himself before pushing backwards, using the charred remains of a planter to launch himself in the air and out of Salamence’s path. He crashed into the mangled bits of a swing-set instead and recovered with a growl, tail bashing the blackened metal into filings as he started knocking them out towards the King. He gritted his teeth and slashed his claws together before putting them out, letting them cut through the weak metal and plastic with a shower of spark and ash. He dragged his claws on the metal-tiled ground, digging up a few squares before launching them at Salamence. His Mankey-wrench jaw and mallet teeth chewed them into paper balls.

 

“You should see an orthodontist about that,” King said very seriously. Salamence didn’t take the advice seriously, however, and backed up slightly to flap his remaining wing, creating a whirlwind of powerful gales that knocked King off of his feet and sent him rolling to the edge, where the barrier between the roof and the street before stopped him from falling over. He shook his fur out as he regained his balance and he grinned at Salamence.

 

“I was just waiting for Blaziken’s order to take you out, me and the rest of ‘em,” Salamence growled. “We’re all sick of you and the way you’ll take out anybody regardless of alignment. Among us, _you’re_ the real monster.”

 

“…Me?” the King said. “A monster?” he smirked, which turned into full-blown laughter that he just couldn’t control. “Oh, I’m greater than a simple monster. I am the King,” he said in a low voice. He met Salamence’s eyes and relished the tormented expression he made as he dropped down on two legs, face contorted in pain. Even the King wasn’t too sure of what the Salamence was seeing, but he did know that it had been dragged forward from the deepest pits of his psyche. He just wasn’t feeling artsy enough to make his own illusion, but anything sufficed when his playing deck was limited. He straightened up, absently rubbing the bandages over his chest as his muscles ached dully from the stress he placed on them. Hopefully his illusion held long enough for him to run, as considering that he could barely breathe, he wasn’t going to win a full-on fight with an ex-Elite Four. “Well, this has been fun—”

 

“Hah,” Salamence laughed, cutting the King out of his reverie as he rose to his feet, his wing lifting him off of the ground slightly. “White Herb. I ate it before I came here,” he said to his dumbfounded expression. “You’d have to be a lot wiser to take _me_ down, _King._ ” He opened his jaws and released another powerful Flamethrower, razing the remains of the store as the flames surged towards him. He put his arms up defensively, drawing the debris around him to protect his body as Rock Tomb. The fire still leaked through the cracks in his makeshift shield however, singeing his fur and polluting his already injured lungs with heavy smoke. He was forced to release the rocks just as Salamence ended the attack, however he didn’t take a break before he returned with Shadow Claw, striking Dominic in the face and most definitely leaving some more scars.

 

“Agaah!” he cried out in pain. He was stunned by the sensation; as far as he could remember, he always won battles without taking a single hit. Salamence reared back a few feet, giving King a bit of a reprieve before swinging his tail forward, slamming it into his small skull, blurring his vision with huge stars and then darkness. The King blinked, dazed, and only snapped out of it when a horrible pain surged in his arm. Salamence’s jaw was clamped around it with no intention of letting go, but that wasn’t the bad part. Darkness poured from the holes in his skin, swarming him like Combee—like the oh-so-familiar memory of that Sableye from seemingly long ago.

 

“I’ve nothing to be afraid of,” King said confidently. “I rule the darkness.” Then it hit him like a brick, and it hit him seconds before the darkness actually started to hurt.

 

_I rule the darkness…Dominic does not. It will eat us alive because of his fears._

He shouted and screamed despite himself as he felt his skin prick with a thousand times the pain the sun could cause, then he kicked and bit Salamence as he felt his skin blister beneath his fur. Salamence released him, his blood running down his teeth, and pumped his wing to soar just out of reach. The King fell to his knees, the pain hurting much, much more as the darkness dragged Dominic’s deepest, darkest memories from his core, turning them into white-hot agony.

 

_The water pulled both of them under in a heartbeat, shredding the remains of Ali’s boat and lifeboat and separating them. Terrified, Michaela gripped Rex in her arms, keeping him against her chest, but she could see that he was losing consciousness from lack of oxygen; she forced him to meet her eyes and created an illusion that he was lying in a meadow on the sunny day—as long as his brain had that image, he wouldn’t asphyxiate. She herself held her breath as she pushed to the surface, but almost immediately another wave smashed her back under, addling her mind. She searched for any sort of help but all of the Water-types were gone, leaving her and Rex alone; she prayed to Arceus again that he would live, even if she didn’t, and swam up again, only to have her lungs filled with saltwater and slam against a metal plate from the boat. Disoriented, she lost her grip on Rex, and the next wave sliced between them like a knife, pulling them apart._

_…_

_WHY CAN’T Iwhy cant iBE A PART OFstop thisALL OF THIS I WAarcuespleasehelpmeNT TO FIGHT I WANT TO FIarceusplease whereareyouHURT THEM I WANT TO TO KILL THEM_

_…_

_Dominic curled up in the middle of the hellfire—it wasn’t like it was going to hurt him anyway—and he cried without a sound; for what, he didn’t know, but something left a great gaping hole in his chest that was so painful it was almost physical. He felt his tears instantly burn away from the hellfire’s heat, but it didn’t matter; with each tear that evaporated, thrice took its place until he was finally and completely beaten._

_…_

_“We’ll make it, we will,” Dominic muttered, more to himself than Reyes, who was pretty much dying before his eyes. Dominic took a flyswatter from his mane and slapped Reyes with it. “Wake up! Wake up up up!” Reyes still didn’t wake up. Dominic ditched the swatter and grabbed his shoulders, ignoring the burning sensation of poison on his skin. “WAKE UP!” he shouted, shaking him hard enough that his head flipped back and forth. He eventually hissed and withdrew his claws; although he wasn’t as severely effected as a Grass-type, the poison had burned away the fur and skin on his hands, causing them to bleed out and most likely giving him more than a few infections._

_…_

_“Then just die,” the King said, grabbing a fistful of Dominic’s hair and bringing his head up. His eyes were like flashlights cutting through the darkness as he looked towards the ocean, mouth curled into a snarl. “Then the pain will be gone and so will you.”_

 

The fine line between them blurred as the King felt more of Dominic than he ever had before. Sure, the King held Dominic’s memories, but those meant nearly nothing, as what made Dominic so Dominic-ish was his experiences. Those emotions, the King had no chance of understanding, as he was just as mass of darkness incarnated after all, and no matter whose body he possessed or how many people or pokémon that he killed, that wasn’t ever going to change. The King, Rex, would always just be a stagehand for Dominic’s show as well as every other half-conceived bit of darkness in every other sentient being on the planet, because however much he despised a beating heart, he needed to have one before he could ever roam freely and—and even have a chance of making a single friend. Without that, he would forever be confined to the shadows.

 

He heard Salamence give a screech and raised his head. His wing was tied down to his legs and he was wildly spewing flames trying to burn the restraints away—vines, the King realized, vines were holding him in place. He blinked repeatedly as his vision blurred, and somewhere inside of him he again felt that line between him and Dominic blur. While Dominic was an open book to him, he kept his own thoughts sealed tightly. Why? He wasn’t too sure. Maybe he was like Dominic in that aspect, always keeping his “soul” boxed up, but whereas Dominic did it to protect others, King did it to protect himself. Not a commendable effort in anybody’s eyes, but he was, after all, “a sum of his parts.”

 

“You’re… You’re defending the wrong guy, Sceptile,” he sighed, clenching his chest as his heart raced out of his control. Reyes braced his heels on the ground as he embedded the vines into the concrete, holding them in place, and glanced over his shoulder at him.

 

“Maybe not,” he said with an almost pitying expression. “Even if you are the King, the look in your eyes belongs to Dominic.”

 

“Damn you.” He gave a shaky exhale as he dropped his claws to the ground, watching them blur before his eyes. He was very aware, however, of the blood that began to pool around them, and when he didn’t have much blood to spare in the first place, he was really worried.

 

_I DON’T WANT TO DIE I don’t want DON’T WANT TO to die i don’t want DIE_

 

He blinked and felt his jaw drop a little. Were they really having the same thoughts? Was he really that far gone? “…Help,” he whispered to Reyes. Yes, he was that far gone after all. Reyes froze for a moment, seemingly surprised, then he put his arm out and gave Dominic a thumbs-up. Dominic wasn’t relieved, however, because he knew Reyes enough to know that he wouldn’t be able to focus properly on the battle if he knew Dominic was in critical condition behind him. It was a miracle that his PTSD wasn’t acting up right then, but maybe he was just hiding it. “Somebody…help,” he croaked, covering his face as he started shaking. He was feeling cold despite the sunlight. “Somebody…”

 

Reyes’ vines finally snapped under Salamence’s strength as he roared in anger, stomping his feet with fire blowing wildly from his mouth. Reyes shook his hands out as he gritted his teeth, ready to fight, but Dominic knew that he couldn’t fight that guy alone, it was impossible. His head fell and hit the ground and he could feel himself losing his breath—well, he had a long run, it wasn’t good but it was long, although he wished he could’ve gotten to visit Kalos once before he went, he heard it was a cool place—

 

_…I smell a Gardevoir._

Dominic blinked a few times, thinking he was imaging things on the verge of death, but when he brought himself to his feet he saw that he wasn’t imagining things. There was another Pokémon behind Salamence, and although Reyes didn’t notice her initially, his vines snapped apart when he finally laid eyes on her. Salamence roared in indignation and made to charge them before he was grabbed psychically, spittle flying from his maw as he struggled against the ethereal grip.

 

“I’ll take care of this,” Azalea said, her voice quiet yet carrying across to them. Reyes was shell-shocked, every muscle in his body frozen as she stepped forward, her scarred and blind eyes aglow with pink light. She looked at Reyes with an expression of such pain and betrayal that even Dominic felt it deep in his soul, then she wiped her face clean of emotion and put out her hands. “I’ll take care of _you,_ Reyes.”


	19. 2.7. The Devil Is A Truth

Reyes knew Azalea since she was just a pretty little Kirlia, and never once in his life had he seen her truly upset, never, but the look she gave him could only be described as such, and it paralyzed him until Dominic pulled him out of the way, letting a powerful Psywave smash into the concrete where he was standing and uproot it like dirt.

 

“Ow!” Dominic cried as Reyes landed on top of him. Reyes rolled off of him, still stunned as Azalea stood in her spot, breath heaving from exertion. “You have…you have to fight her,” Dominic panted.

 

“I won’t—I can’t!” he responded. Dominic’s eyes were already narrowed in pain but they narrowed even more as he rolled onto his stomach, his claws going into his mane.

 

“Don’t… Don’t make me have to…’cause it won’t…it won’t be pretty…”

 

“You’re not going to touch her,” he growled as Dominic took out a Hyper Potion. He hissed in pain as he sprayed it over his injuries, and although it didn’t give him a full recovery, he was able to stand upright and toss it away. Azalea interrupted before he could speak, releasing another Psywave that split them apart.

 

“Doesn’t look like she has the same inhibitions!” Dominic said sharply. “I know that that’s your best friend, but when she’s trying to _kill us—_!”

 

“Dominic! Just shut up!” he interrupted, frustrated and still trying to swallow the whole situation. He tried to mentally break it down, make it easier to comprehend. He first wondered how Azalea could have so much psychic power all of a sudden—it just wasn’t possible by any safe or humane method. He also wondered why she would be chasing after them after so long on the run, as a psychic-type able to “read” him like the back of her hand. She didn’t give him time to think before the ground underneath his feet flooded with pink light. He braced himself before jumping away, the concrete exploding into a shower that pierced his back and ripped away two of his seed pods. She was again left vulnerable after the attack, which Dominic tried to take advantage of by rushing her. Reyes threw his arm out and coiled his vines around Dominic’s midsection, holding him in place.

 

“Reyes! If you don’t let go of me I’ll slice you down with her!” He tried and failed to slice through the vines, his expression becoming desperate as Azalea slowly recovered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

 

“You won’t hit me… Why do you still act like a hero?” she whispered. “You turned against us…against all of us, and you joined the enemy… You’ve always hated the rebels and what they stand for, so why…? Why, Reyes!?” she suddenly wailed, throwing Reyes so hard that he cleared the barrier of the roof, Dominic falling with him because of the vines as they tumbled down the store and to the asphalt of the street. Reyes felt the impact deep in his skeleton, giving him a bodily ache and a lingering blackness in his peripheral that made it hard to see Dominic until he landed on his stomach. He felt some of his chloroplasts go from the impact, losing his breath in a grunt as Dominic seemingly lost consciousness.

 

“Wake up, you bastard, I can’t drag you around here,” Reyes hissed, releasing the vines from his palms as he pushed Dominic to the ground with his free hand. Dominic groaned as he revived, digging his claws into his chest before he growled in annoyance and started slicing his bandages away.

 

“I wish you’d make up your mind,” he muttered, letting the last of the bloodied cloth fall in a heap on the ground. He gestured to the citywide distortion around them in disgust. “Do you want to live, or do you want to die by your side girlfriend’s hands?”

 

“I don’t— _neither,_ ” he snarled. “I can’t focus—”

 

“Getting thrown around will do that to you,” he said dryly. “Don’t think that I don’t understand your relationship—I do, after all, have memories of such love, in case you’ve forgotten—but in this situation when you’ve already decided that you’ll be dancing in Hell with me—,” he smirked, pointing at himself, “then you had to have known you’ll be signing a contract to go against those you’ve already aligned yourself. Fighting back against Alakazam wasn’t so hard, why her?”

 

“She’s been there… She’s been there since forever…” He felt memories rising like the bile in his throat and choked it all down, trying not to have a breakdown then and there. “I just… I just _can’t_ fight her, okay?”

 

“Then let me do it.” He was eerily calm as he looked Reyes in the eyes, his being full of an unusual ice, and as Reyes stared, he realized that he had seen that expression before—he saw it several times before, actually, every time he looked at himself after Brendan was gone.

 

“You would…make a mess of things,” he said in a more subdued voice, unsure if he was being metaphorical or literal. Dominic’s look softened a little. “I’ll…fight her.”

 

“That’s the ticket, Sceptile.”

 

“Why are you helping me, King?” He shrugged a shoulder.

 

“It turns out Dominic and I are more alike than we thought.” He grimaced as if eating something repulsive. “…I’m sad to admit.” His ears pricked up and his head snapped towards the store’s roof as Azalea reached the edge. Reyes stood up, aware of the slowly-forming crowd around them and the danger that could arise for them from the two of them. On top of that, the Salamence was still in fighting condition, staying afloat just next to her with his single wing. Reyes and Dominic exchanged a look instead of words, yet they understood each other perfectly as the two opponents descended on them.

 

Salamence crashed into Dominic with his claws out, however he was prepared and blocked the attack with his dark energy. Still, he was pushed back, giving Salamence enough time to attack again with Dragonbreath. Reyes was distracted from them as a car, previously parked on the curb, came barreling towards him. He raised his arms and extended his blades, stopping it in its tracks and shattering the windshield. He heard a _thud_ and backed up to see that Azalea had landed on the roof of the car, eyes still hidden with the light of her energy as she thrusted her hands forward. Waves of pink exploded from her arms and body, spinning like boomerangs through the air until they reached Reyes. He turned and ran, feeling them raze his tail as they came within centimeters of slicing him into vines, and started pushing through the crowd as they jerked in surprise. As angry as Azalea was, he knew that she would never hurt humans.

 

“Don’t try to run from what you’ve reaped, Reyes!” he heard her shout. He turned and looked over his shoulder in time to see a ball of ghostly energy zooming towards him and, consequently, the innocent humans and Pokémon gathered there. He gritted his teeth as he used an Amoongus as a footstool, bouncing off of its head and into the air to take the attack in his chest. The Shadow Ball ripped his energy away from his body forcefully, making him feel as if he just ran ten miles as he hit the ground shakily.

 

“Pikachu, use Thundershock!” somebody in the crowd cried, setting off a chain of attacks that headed for Azalea. Reyes swallowed the impulse to protect her, watching a series of attacks from Flamethrower to Earth Power fly towards her. Waving her hands, she created a psychic barrier that not only protected herself but sent the attacks back to their senders. Pokémon scattered to protect their masters as the attacks hit, creating an ensuing panic that escalated to the entire neighborhood as Azalea and Salamence’s attacks destroyed homes and other property and caused several injuries. As Reyes watched, a Shadow Ball created by Dominic was dodged by Salamence and instead hit the Lilycove Department Store, ruining the first level and finally causing the building to give out. It seemed to fall down in slow motion, topmost level collapsing in on the one below it with an ear-shattering _boom!_ every time until the last one was wrecked, a rolling tsunami of debris and smoke ensuring after the crash that reduced visibility to zero.

 

“Damn it,” he muttered, backing away from the site to try to find one clear spot. He saw her silhouette appear just in front of him and raised his hands instinctively, firing a series of leaves sharpened to kill. He immediately cursed himself afterwards, however the attack didn’t even hit her. The leaves stilled, a pink aura surrounding them as they darkened in color to nearly black, and he raised his arms just before they spun back towards him, ripping his skin and creating thin streams of chlorophyll running down his arms. He saw another dark silhouette appear at ten o’clock, then two more appeared a few inches away until he was surrounded by them. “Why don’t you just show yourself, huh?” he demanded. “Why are you afraid to face me now?”

 

“I don’t think you’re one to talk about being afraid of facing anybody,” she said in a quiet voice. The shape at his left corner opened its eyes a second before he was blown back with a gust of pure Psychic. He skidded backwards on the street, unable to catch himself, and his back slammed into the door of an SUV, freezing him in place with the pain. He forced his eyes open and saw Azalea rushing him, her dress flapping wildly from her speed as she hovered a few inches above the ground. At that distance and in his state, she could kill him. She _would_ kill him.

 

“I’ll hate myself for this…”

 

He raised his arm and felt the dark energy coursing through his skin and leaf blades, feeling it surround them and lengthen them. It felt like drinking the best wine, downing cup after cup to enjoy the taste and lightheadedness even though it would leave you blasted drunk, but damn the consequences. He realized that Dominic, as a Dark-type, constantly had that taste for the beauty of danger and death, how hard it must have been for him and all else of his type to refuse it.

 

He heard Azalea scream as his blade sliced into her chest.

 

Reyes watched her stumble back in alarm and surprise as she clenched her heart, blood running down her smooth skin from the laceration. It wasn’t very deep at all, however the dark energy within was hurting her. She looked at him with such pain that he wanted to take it all back, but in all honestly, he _knew_ what he was getting himself into as soon as he chose to get on that boat with Dominic. They were enemies as long as she stayed with the revolutionaries, and whether she was doing the right thing or not by staying with them he had no idea, but their current standing was clear as crystal to him.

 

“D-Don’t…attack… If you…me again…I’ll have to…kill you,” he whispered, the words hurting him like nothing else. She still stared at him, seemingly in shock, then her face became devoid of all emotions. She didn’t say a word to him and he was happy; he didn’t think he could take a response anyway. He had to throw his mind into the fight or else she would kill him, and so he had to fight with the intent to kill her as well.

 

He felt an invisible pressure weigh heavily on his body, holding him back against the car and sealing all of his limbs in place. It would’ve been easy to break out of in normal circumstances, but there was a strange pain pulsing in his chest, something with nothing to do with his emotions. He pondered the feeling for a moment before meeting Azalea’s eyes, seeing her sweating from exerting so much energy and the pain in her chest but still fighting. “…Synchronize,” he whispered. That would be a problem.

 

Salamence used his tail as a heavy weapon, slamming it down hard enough to uproot the asphalt of the street as Dominic sped out of its path. He panted from the effort, still in no condition to fight and the strain showing as he slowed with every movement. It seems that he didn’t even have the energy to put up an illusion or he would’ve done it by then. Instead he was making movements that put him decimeters from an attack and caused him to lose a few hairs each time Salamence swung his tail or claws or made for a bite, decimeters that shrunk each time from his exhaustion. The next time Salamence swung his tail in Dominic’s vicinity he grabbed it and sunk his claws into his tough hide before opening his mouth and blowing a torrent of flames into his face. On top of being a Dragon-type, Salamence apparently had the skin of a boulder, causing him to not even blink before swinging his tail and tossing Dominic like a pesky Bug-type.

 

“Dominic!” Reyes didn’t have much energy to spare but he focused enough to create a vine in Dominic’s path, winding it with several others until they were thick enough to catch him midflight. They merely stopped him in his path, not providing a soft impact, evident in his pained groan as he gripped the vines like a tree with his claws. “Are you all right?”

 

“You can see that I’m not,” he replied in a terse voice, sticking his tongue out. Obviously, he was fine.

 

Azalea recovered and threw her arms up into the air. A deep rumble sounded from the thin clouds above before they suddenly congregated and dropped a bolt of lightning down to earth. Reyes didn’t have enough space to move and was hit, but being a Grass-type the damage could have been a lot worse. He jumped backwards onto the car’s roof, then he moved back further onto a street lamp. She stared up at him before her eyes were again consumed with light and the lamp began creaking. He shook on his feet before toppling, but he didn’t have much time to fall before the metal whipped around and coiled about his waist like an Arbok, holding him a few feet above ground. She attempted to draw closer and he started spitting, repelling her with Bullet Seed. She simply brushed them away with a psychic gust before drawing as close to him as physically possible without touching him, close enough that he could see his full reflection in her crimson eyes.

 

“I used to think that I knew you,” she whispered, slowly dragging her hand down his cheek. He relaxed despite himself, her touch still feeling familiar after so many years. It was with those hands that she healed the worst of his injuries, physical and otherwise, before Brendan’s demise and long after. Those hands, he believed, were made to help, not hurt; that was quickly proven wrong when she slapped him hard enough to cause his cheek to swell slightly. “But the Reyes that I’ve known is long gone,” she continued in a sharper tone, gripping his face tight enough to hurt, and without warning she pressed her lips to his. It felt wrong and almost sickening as if he was kissing his mother, and more than that he could feel his energy draining even further the longer she stayed attached to him. He fought to pull from her grip but the steel lamppost held him firmly in place, binding everything down to his neck. He hated what he had to do, but he kissed her back, harder.

 

She stumbled in surprise, yet she still didn’t break contact even as he felt her skin heat beneath his. Then, sure that he had her in place, he started passing his seeds through his mouth and into hers. She swallowed reflexively before pulling away, hands over her mouth in alarm as he fought the urge to vomit at the strangeness of the situation. She clenched her stomach next, eyes wide and tearing up in pain as she bit down on her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. “W-What did y-you—?” She didn’t get to finish before a coughing fit seized her, forcing her down onto her knees in pain. She started spitting up, desperately trying to rid herself of the foreign entities, but Reyes could tell that it was too late from the surge of energy rushing through him. It felt like liquid fire running through his veins, it was so potent; he couldn’t imagine that she had the same feeling however many times over.

 

“Leech Seed,” he explained in a quiet voice. “Although it usually doesn’t get passed on orally…as that would cause extreme pain.”

 

She tried to speak but was cut off by a sudden rush of bile running down her chin. She covered her mouth, horrified, as a tiny sprout peeked through her fingers. She was forced to drop her hands as two more stalks inched their way out of her mouth like fingers from within, turning her snowy complexion a slight green like mint to match her hair as she paled from the pain. He couldn’t forget why he was doing that: something was immoral about Alakazam, evident in how he chased Dominic when he was (more or less) innocent, but as he couldn’t _prove it_ , he couldn’t get Azalea to stop fighting him.

 

“It won’t hurt for long,” he told her, hating every second he heard her pained moans. “You’ll quickly run out of energy and—…” He remembered her power boost and, consequently, the burning pain of it in his veins, and tried to imagine how she had gotten so much damn power all of a sudden. He wiggled wildly, trying to free his arms, but came up short and gave up, instead pulling his upper body so violently that both arms tore away. Thankfully, being in the sunlight, he could regrow them fairly quickly. Using his leaf blades, he sliced deep scores into the steel, weakening it but still not coming close to breaking free. He sighed in defeat, instead focusing on growing his vines through the exposed patches of dirt in the broken asphalt and letting them worm in-between his body and his restraints.

 

Dominic was nearly dragging along, his movements were so sluggish. He was taking more hits than he was dodging and blood was soaking through his fur from his reopened chest wound as he panted, fatigued and at his wits’ end. Salamence opened his maw, which was alight with flames, and bit down on Dominic’s left leg as he attempted to run. He fell flat on his face as the smell of burning fur filled the air yet Salamence clung with the tenacity of that Sharpedo from what felt like eons ago. Reyes raised his head to the sun, feeling the heat pierce his skin and fill every bit of his insides, giving it a slight glow before he redirected the energy outwards. Of course that damn Salamence dodged his Solar Beam, but Reyes did manage to extricate his person from Dominic, although the burning hunk known as his leg would be useless for the remainder of their fight.

 

“Ugh… Uguu…” he groaned, pushing his torso up with his arms and shaking his head to clear it. He seemed only half cognizant as he inspected the damage to his leg. He dragged it forward a few inches to test it, which seemed too much as his eyes widened with pain. Nevertheless, Dominic persisted, pushing himself up until he was standing on his two feet, managing for maybe five seconds before he regressed into a sorry three-legged limp. Salamence whirled around, making a severe U-turn in the air before coming back with energy streaming off of his body like water. Dominic backed away slowly before fully realizing the situation and turning to run—except he ran in Reyes’ direction.

 

“Dominic—!” Reyes didn’t even have the time to protect anybody but himself—as a matter of fact he didn’t even have the time to protect himself. Rather, his vines automatically covered him like a net, bearing the brunt of Salamence’s Aerial Ace but not protecting himself or Dominic and Azalea from the wind that he carried, which cut through like solid blades. The lamp finally gave way and toppled to the ground, yet its grip on him remained as he was stuck on his back. Salamence smirked at him, chuckles reverberating from his long neck as he pressed his hind foot down on Reyes’ neck.

 

“If only you could see how stupid you look,” he laughed. “There will be no honor in this death.” He made to take a bite out of Reyes’ face at which Reyes spit several large seeds into Salamence’s open mouth. He choked, surprised, as Reyes continued until his entire airway was blocked. He flew backwards, wild-eyed from asphyxiation, which was when Reyes noticed Azalea looming in his field of vision. He strained and struggled against the coiled street lamp, but although it creaked and groaned it refused to give out. Damn Lilycove’s stable architecture. The pink glow around her returned on a greater scale, brightening until he had to squint to look at her properly. Her dress fluttered in a self-created breeze as the very ground rumbled, little pink sparks flying from the cracks in the asphalt and concrete.

 

“Alakazam granted my wish to show you the light,” she told him, her voice echoing endlessly into the sky—or so it seemed. The sprouts peeking out of her mouth withered from the intensity of the energy surrounding her and broke away in the wind until they were just protons and electrons. She put a hand to her heart, open for all the world to see, and closed her eyes. “He gave me the strength I needed because I would’ve been too weak otherwise, physically and emotionally… Now that I’ve warmed up, I can show you the full extent of the power that he has given me—the power of justice granted for me to deal with the wicked.” Her eyes snapped open at “wicked,” bight like miniature suns trapped in her skull.

 

That was when Hell broke loose in Lilycove City.


	20. 2.8. Magna Carta

Azalea wasn’t lying about the boost in her power level—that was the best understatement that Reyes could come up with.

 

Buildings, trees, humans, and Pokémon were all tossed into the air as if gravity suddenly meant nothing, giving everybody a strange sensation of weightlessness for maybe three seconds before they started descending. All of the Pokémon in the area, regardless of status, banded together, Psychic-types nullifying gravity a bit to slow their fall and Grass-types forming a soft bed of moss below. Suffice it to say that it still _hurt_ when they kissed the ground, and Reyes could tell right off the bat that there were casualties, however there was a much higher percent of injuries and Nurse Joys to help with those. He landed on a huge, malodorous flower most likely formed by a Vileplume, not really feeling any pain but getting the huge numb sensation of his body giving up. He tried not to look at the scene ahead of him but it was all he could see, and he felt an attack coming on again. His heart raced, his stomach clenched, and his mind went all sorts of places.

 

“N…Not again,” he groaned. It became worse when a troublesome Pokémon landed on his stomach. “You’ve got to _stop_ _doing that already_ , Dominic.”

 

“Okay, I’ll give that message to gravity the next time she’s tossing me around like a piece of meat,” he retorted, but he made no moves to get off of him.

 

“Dominic.”

 

“I literally can’t move. My body just won’t listen to me.”

 

“Mine either.” They laid like that in the chaos for a while, Reyes trying to figure out why Azalea wasn’t plucking his stem at the moment and Dominic with Salamence. “I’ve been wondering… If you’re the King, you would’ve eviscerated that Salamence by now…damn the consequences…so I don’t understand why you’re letting yourself get thrown around like a ragdoll.”

 

“First and foremost, why would I let myself be thrown around? It’s this damn body that Dominic let go to ruin,” he growled, digging his claws into his abdomen as hard as possible without breaking the skin, even though there was already plenty of blood seeping into his thick fur. “And, well, maybe I don’t want to eviscerate him— Maybe I can’t,” he corrected himself. “Because Dominic is such a—”

 

“I thought you were the higher power and not Dominic.” He snorted at the notion.

 

“I can only wish.” He paused, eyes narrowed, then he sighed. “And lately, it feels as if I’m becoming less of a power by the moment. Perhaps Dominic doesn’t _need_ my protection anymore and he’s just taking back what’s his. I can’t read his mind, nor can I tell him what to do. If he really, truly doesn’t want me here, then I’ll go.”

 

“It can’t be _that_ easy,” he replied.

 

“Oh yes, it is. Because now he has somebody to lead him into the metaphorical light.” He gave Reyes a very odd look then, one that seemed somewhat familiar. “Thanks to you, Reyes, I’ve become irrelevant.” Reyes couldn’t understand the inflection behind his words, if he was upset by it or…grateful?

 

Reyes sighed, trying to take in as much sunlight as possible but finding it hampered by two things: the dust in the air and Dominic’s body covering most of his. He could even feel the sprouts of new seed pods forming on his back as he tried to absorb the light, but so far all he was absorbing was Dominic’s blood, giving his skin a pink tinge on top of the green. “Won’t absorbing my blood hurt you?” he asked. Reyes shook his head.

 

“I don’t have a blood type of my own. In fact, it’s healthier for me to absorb blood over water because it already contains nutrients that I, as a semi-mammalian organism, utilize. It’s just, you know, gross for me to do so.” More of his skin turned pink, making it look as if he received a splash of paint on his front. Feeling more energized than before, he slowly sat up and pushed Dominic onto his knees as he went. Then Reyes formed a seed and held it out. “This will… This will give enough strength for you to run,” he said, taking a breath to steady his ravaged body and mind. “As this is now my problem, I don’t want or need you interfering.”

 

“Me? Interfering?” He made to slap away the seed but missed, a combination of blood loss and apparently failing vision.

 

“You’re strong, a fact of which I am painfully aware of after spending so long with you,” he said, his words tasting almost as bitter as the dust in the air. “But this is something I need to handle a-lone. I won’t get closure otherwise.”

 

He stared at Reyes, eyes hard, as he snatched the seed up, gripping it so hard that his claws almost turned it into shredded skin. He shoved it into his mouth and swallowed without chewing it, the corners of his mouth turning down in distaste. “How about this,” he said, his voice stronger than before. “If I have the strength to run, I have the strength to stand and cheer you on. You’re not opposed to _that,_ are you?”

 

He thought about it for a few seconds before snickering. “What has happened to you, King?”

 

“You,” he answered plainly. His ears suddenly stood straight up as a slow but maniacal smile contorted his face. “And your side girlfriend.”

 

Reyes didn’t even protest, turning to the side to acknowledge Azalea’s silhouette slowly forming within the dust. Her arm was out and he quickly realized why: she had Salamence pinned in a psychic chokehold so strong that his wings were stretching and contorting in a repeated, pained pattern. She looked like she was about to pass out, still greening from Reyes’ Leech Seed and her chest heaving with labored breaths, and when he looked closer he saw what seemed to be hairline cracks in her skin as if she was a porcelain doll somebody had dropped. He stood up slowly, hands up to deter her from attacking, and spoke deliberately: “Azalea, this can’t be good for you. This amount of power isn’t something that your body is used to—”

 

“I’ll tell you what her body is used to,” Dominic snorted.

 

“—and it just might—no, it _will_ kill you if you continue,” he tried, but her expression was as hard as ever. “Please, Azalea, don’t kill yourself over me… I’ll go with you if it means you’ll stop, if for nothing else than your sake and the sakes of everybody in the city.” He didn’t need to gesture to the extensive damage of Lilycove; it spoke for itself. Besides that, there were Pokémon and Trainers rising from the ashes of their city to fight back, and whether Azalea would be the one to fall or them, he didn’t want to see it happen.

 

“I,” she said loudly, her voice clear for all to hear.

 

“Don’t—

 

“CARE!

 

“What I care about is the legacy of our Trainer, the one that has raised us from such a young age with tender love and care, that you are besmirching as we speak!” she shouted, fists clenched. “And I care for the noble cause that Alakazam started that you’ve stood against for what? For a psychopath that wants nothing more than to have sex and bathe his claws in blood?” Dominic grunted in dissent.

 

“Listen here, you, before I slice away your ears which are being awfully useless at the moment—”

 

“Dominic you’re not helping,” Reyes interrupted.

 

“Helping _what,_ exactly? Talking is useless; talking has _been_ useless, yet you’re too full of yourself to see it. What we need is real, heartfelt action, and if that’s what I have to do to save both of our lives—”

 

Their attention was stolen away from each other as a Mightyena leapt upon Azalea, jaw open to bite down on her leg. She cried out in pain from the pressure and even more so as darkness swirled around the injury. More Mightyena began approaching then, seemingly from a pack, and biting at her from all angles, leaving nasty bloody marks in her previously puritanical figure. “Azalea!” he shouted as more Pokémon surged onto her, burying her within a mound of fur and leaves and tentacles. She gave another shrill cry before falling completely still under her living restraints. Dominic grabbed Reyes’ shoulders, alerting him to how he was leaning forward, and clicked his tongue.

 

“It’s what’s good for her,” he said, trying his hardest not to sound smug when he said it. “Just let it happen and leave your hands clean.”

 

“…They’re already dirty,” he replied, his mouth feeling dry.

 

“It’s a different kind of dirty,” Dominic amended. “Not good, but different. If you killed her, it would be a permanent stain on your hands that you can never wash away. Something that you feel constantly like…like a scar…” He trailed off, seemingly lost in his thoughts, before he clicked his tongue again. “And that’s not something that you, of all people, should have.” His ear twitched and his expression became unsettled. “…Reyes, I’m sorry,” he said suddenly.

 

“Sorry for—?” The Pokémon around Azalea went flying, and from there things happened in such a short breath that Reyes didn’t think that he saw it properly. In the same instant that she burst free, dress flying wildly as a sheet in the wind, her arms up to release the full extent of her upgraded psychic abilities, Dominic’s mane rose entirely on end as if it was some other entity entirely—maybe an agitated Pineco would’ve been a better metaphor, or a Zigzagoon—and a circle of hellfire erupted all around her, startling her still until little licks of flames landed on the material of her dress. That was when they started to burn.

 

“You BASTARD!” Reyes roared, fully intent on shredding Dominic, and while Dominic looked very ready for the consequences, Reyes had more pressing matters. He tossed the broken pieces of asphalt and debris at her, hoping to staunch the flames, but they simple passed around the rocks and worked their way up her slender body. Pokémon scattered from her wildly, instincts warning them of the danger, yet a handful of slower ones still perished as hellfire razed their skin and burned it to the bone, and after that was bleached then there was nothing left but a tiny wisp of smoke. It sickened him to think that the same thing would happen to her—no, to be _seeing_ the same thing happening before his eyes. He watched her dress burn away from the hem up, her eyes tearing in pain as she cried and whimpered, her skin blistering before it melted altogether and red splotches covering the intact parts for the moment. Reyes tackled her and put his arms around her, pulling the flames from her body and onto his much more flammable one.

 

“Don’t,” she choked out through her tears. “Don’t—don’t try to—get my—forgiveness.”

 

“I’m not,” he replied, gritting his teeth through the pain. “But I won’t forgive _myself_ if I see you burn away like this.”

 

“…” She closed her eyes and pushed her face into his chest, gripping his arms tightly as she tried not to have a fit from the burning agony. Reyes was beginning to get used to the burn in some sick way, but the sensation of his skin curling into peels from the heat was new. He never intended to die, however as far as ways of doing so went, that could’ve been worse. Just as he was resigning himself to the idea, the flames abruptly vanished. He didn’t quite process it until a second later, when Dominic tackled his back and dug his claws into his shoulders as he gripped him tightly.

 

“Not another!” he wailed. “I won’t let another friend die in my fire… I won’t…” Again, Reyes didn’t really process it for a while. He looked around and, sure enough, there were several burned patches of asphalt but no hellfire. He glanced worriedly at Azalea, who was still slumped against him, and then assessed the damage to his body. His skin was severely burnt, almost completely black in some places, but he could regrow it given enough sunlight. Azalea, on the other hand, couldn’t. Dominic jumped back, his claws held close to his body. He looked to be on the verge of tears at it all.

 

“I’m sorry, it was—it was a reflex,” he blubbered, highly upset. “’Cause I know she’s important to ya, I wouldn’t have done it if I had a choice, but she was givin’ so much power that my instincts kicked in an’…” He swallowed, dropping his head. “I’m not comin’ up with ‘ny excuses; I know I almost killed her and ya told me not to intahfere and she’s yer friend…”

 

Reyes didn’t respond, his mind too tumultuous to focus on Dominic’s words. He was still trying to ensure that she hadn’t been harmed too severely when she looked up at him. He expected another curse or the like from her mouth, but instead what caught his attention were her glowing eyes. A pink glow surrounded his body, freezing everything except for his arms. He watched as his leaf blades were forcefully elongated into swords, then in slow and jerky movements the flats of his blades were against his neck. Small ticking sounds filled the silence as more cracks broke across her smooth skin, making it appear as if her head was going to split in two. He looked at Azalea, whose expression was clear, and realized just how far she had fallen, and although it went against all that he had stood for in twenty-one years of life, he realized what he finally had to do.

 

“I love you, Lea,” he whispered, expecting her responding silence. He didn’t want reciprocation, just wanted to give her something to take with her. He could sense his seeds still inside of her, giving him small bits of strength while preventing her from fully ripping him apart. He focused on those seeds, forcing them to grow into her chest cavity. She gasped, her body going rigid, then her chest fell still as her diaphragm was grasped so tightly it couldn’t move. She stared at Reyes as her face turned a faint shade of blue, her mouth moving silently and forming so many words that he couldn’t understand. Her eyelids fluttered after a minute, her body getting weaker and weaker until she finally fell, like a doll, into his arms.

 

“At the very least…” Dominic whispered, his voice hoarse. It might have been the King for all Reyes knew. “At the very least, I owe her something…” Her eyes were just slits, barely taking in the world around them, but then a peaceful expression settled on her face as she smiled.

 

 _Brendan,_ she mouthed before her eyes finally closed. He picked her up, barely noticing her weight and Dominic’s vague questions in the background as he carried her past pokémon getting medical attention and humans lamenting over their destroyed city, and to a field of soft grass grown by the Grass-types. He laid her down, marveling over how peaceful she looked, and closed his eyes.

 

“Alakazam knew…he knew that she could die…would die, and yet he…”

 

He felt the last of his past slip away as he released her, the attacks and anxiety and memories, and with a deep breath and a purposeful walk with his back to Lilycove, Reyes left all that he had known before behind.


	21. 3.1. The Sun Is Freezing

_“I killed the King.”_

_Dominic didn’t think he would ever say those words, much less to Sinclair, but he said them, and for once in his life he wasn’t lying. With Reyes somewhere between comatose and unconscious in his arms and his foot aching so badly that he had twice—not once, but twice—attempted to cut it off altogether, he was in his worst state in a very long time, and the last thing he wanted was a fight, revenge, or anything of that sort. And for once, Dominic got what he wanted; once the rebels heard that he had “singlehandedly” taken out three of the best, they had finally given him the space he wanted—not that he needed space at the moment. Everything that had breath was skittering out his pathway just like how things used to be, except he was dying and Reyes was dying and nobody wanted to help._

_That brought him to Sinclair._

_“You killed yourself,” Sinclair said slowly, his ears drooping as he tried to understand. He was balancing a small Japanese tea mug in his smaller paws just as Dominic remembered him. He took a closer look at Dominic and his friend and frowned. “Come inside and explain everything.”_

Dominic stared at the tea inside of his mug sorrowfully. It smelled like something foreign but he couldn’t pin it down, and he knew a lot of teas so finding something knew would’ve been a curious thing had his mind not been so full. Sinclair returned from his little kitchen and set a second mug in front of Reyes, who was so silent and so still, but he took it anyway. Then Sinclair sat on the little dining table and held up a paw. “Okay, begin explaining,” he said, looking between them.

 

“It’s…a lot to go over,” Dominic said, glancing at Reyes. He took a small sip of tea and grimaced. “It’s hot. It’s always hot.” He drank it anyway, and maybe the temperature wasn’t even the problem. Dominic looked at Sinclair before dropping his eyes again. “Do you want to start?”

 

“You start, I’ll finish.”

 

Dominic told Sinclair the first portion of their story, of how they met and went to Petalburg. He spoke about the two kids that he killed before they took Briney’s boat to Slateport, where Dominic attacked Reyes and finally started to get a little of an attitude change. He mentioned Louis and their brief stint on the revolutionaries’ boat where he told Reyes his sad story, slightly modified by the King (to Reyes’ surprise.) He finished with them landing in Ever Grande City, becoming enemies of Alakazam, and fleeing with their tails between their legs.

 

Reyes continued as they hid away on the Secret Islets and met Gabriel and Azure, who gravely injured him. He talked about their narrow escape before they were flagged down by Sharpedo, the first of the rebels’ Elite Four. He caught Dominic and separated him from Reyes, who ended up in the Pokémon Center of Lilycove, where he met the next of the Elite Four: Banette. He beat Banette with some difficulty before travelling onto a ferry, where Sharpedo made his return with Dominic still chasing after him. Together they beat him, but Dominic was dying as they reached the shore. It was while Dominic was on his deathbed that Reyes told his own story. He more or less gave Sinclair the abridged version of it, omitting several personal details, but he did convey the gist of his twisted past.

 

“Seems like you two have had quite the adventure,” Sinclair said, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“That’s not all,” Dominic said. “We were caught by Salamence, and he turned our darkness against me. It was just horrible… Every nightmare I’ve ever had came back like the strongest poison, and we honestly thought that we would die. That guy and I became like _this,_ we were so intertwined. Reyes tried to bail us out, but even he couldn’t match up to that strength. That is, until we…”

 

“We were interrupted,” he said quietly. “By an old friend. She tried to kill me.”

 

“And he killed her,” he added. “Reluctantly, but it had to be done.” Sinclair sighed.

 

“Now, is _that_ it?”

 

“Reyes and I ran for our lives, but now wherever we go they know our faces. They fear us, they don’t want us near them.” He covered his face with his claws for a moment, running them through his fur. “And it was hard, but we came to Petalburg looking for…you, Sinclair, looking for you. You were the only one that treated me like a humane being in so long, and you’re my only friend aside from Reyes… I thought you could help us.”

 

“Help you do _what_ , exactly?” he asked.

 

“Confront Alakazam,” Reyes said in a hard voice. “And this time, we _won’t_ run.” The malice in his voice scared Dominic.

 

“Bold moves on your parts, but can you do it?”

 

“Probably not,” Dominic admitted. “But this time, we won’t die running.”

 

“Hm…” Sinclair pondered that for a moment, scratching his ear. Reyes suddenly blinked in realization, the corners of his mouth turning down into a deeper frown.

 

“I didn’t ask,” he said in a gruffer voice, “but how are you and Dominic related?” Dominic grasped the cup as best he could with his claws.

 

“Remember the guy that taught me how to kill? Reyes, meet Sinclair, the deadliest Pichu in all of Hoenn.”

 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Sinclair greeted, offering a paw. Dominic grabbed Reyes’ wrist as he attempted to shake it.

 

“If you value your hand, I suggest that you don’t,” he warned. “Sinclair doesn’t have the best control of his voltage.”

 

“He’s right,” Sinclair conceded with a small smile. “So let’s just pretend that we’ve shaken paws, hugged, the works, all right?” He was still as levelheaded as Dominic remembered. When he was a Zorua, it used to annoy him so, so damn much that whatever he did to him, whether it was wrecking his house or cursing his name or anything else, Sinclair just took it without a complaint. Dominic still had yet to find out what kind of past gave him such patience. “You two need medical attention,” he said as Dominic drank the scalding tea. “The Pokémon Center?”

 

“We wouldn’t be welcome,” he said, back in a bitter mood. He took a long gulp of tea as he watched Reyes out of the corner of his eye. He was just nursing it, either deep in thought or just resolute, his eyes focused on nothing at all. His skin was still a horrible black color and would remain that way until it was pruned, and since there was no one else there to do it… “Can you help us then, Sinclair?”

 

“Favors yet again,” he muttered, not at all unkindly. “You’ve always been fond of asking me for favors, Dominic.”

 

“Well, if all goes to plan, then this will be the last one.” He stood up from Sinclair’s table, watching the Pichu’s expression go from calm to surprised as Dominic went down on his knees and bowed his head to the ground. “Please, please help the two of us. For our own reasons we stand against Alakazam, one of the two most powerful Pokémon in Hoenn and most certainly in the Pokémon world, but as you can tell, we’re no match for those two, and they have been very soundly kicking our asses.”

 

“And you think that I can give you two a chance?” Sinclair asked, looking at Reyes. He was still silent; it was miraculous that they managed to get as many words out of him as they did.

 

“A better chance, at least,” Dominic muttered into the floorboards. “Don’t misunderstand—I’m going in prepared to die, because even I know that this is going to be a longshot. Still, I don’t want to… I don’t _want_ to die anymore.” He blinked repeatedly as he felt tears prick his eyes and clenched his claws, feeling them shake. “Not anymore…” He raised his head to rest his muzzle on the ground, staring up at Sinclair. Even when he was a Zorua he never had to look up at Sinclair. “I don’t want Reyes to die, and I don’t want any other innocent lives to be lost because of us. Those two tasks will be damn near impossible to accomplish with just the two of us.”

 

“And similarly, with the three of us,” Sinclair told him. “What you need is your own attack force.”

 

“I am not popular.”

 

“I’m very aware of that. I can provide the force—” He raised his tail as a particularly wild spark raced off of it. “As long as you can lead it.”

 

“Me?” he gasped.

 

“You’re the King after all, right?”

 

“I…” He lost his train of thought.

 

“But we’ve wasted a lot of time speaking anyway.” Sinclair finished his tea and jumped to the ground, rooting through a low shelf for a moment before coming up with a first-aid kit. “You two need to be taken care of first, because if you get any more blood on my clean floor Dominic, I may get angry.” He went into his closet and pulled out a large sheet, laying it down over the clean part of the floor. “Lie down you two.” He did, and expecting the scalpel on his leg did nothing to reduce the pain.

 

“Ow…” he moaned. His burnt fur practically crumpled against the blade, however his skin was patchier and therefore hurt a lot more as Sinclair tried to peel away the dead parts. “You’re hurting…you’re hurting me…” But he was used to it, was used to pain in all forms. And as long as Reyes could be fine, he was happy.

 

——————

 

_“I’m guessing you didn’t sleep again,” Sinclair noticed, sliding a small bowl of Berries over to Dominic. He was too tired to even feign liking them and just turned away, sitting back hard on his haunches. “More nightmares?”_

_“…The King doesn’t want to talk about it,” he muttered, lowering his head to the ground. “He’s fine.”  Sinclair frowned as he walked around his table to Dominic’s side._

_“See, you’ve already told that to me yesterday, the day before, and the rest of the week that you’ve been living under this roof, and frankly I’m sick of it.” Sinclair patted Dominic’s head hard enough to give him a few hair-raising sparks, but he barely had any reaction. He knew that he looked terrible; the stress was causing his once-thick fur to fall out in patches and he lost a lot of weight because he couldn’t focus enough to eat. It made him small even by Zorua standards and constantly cold to the touch and he was always tired and irritable and just plain_ pitiful. _“You’re not fine—you’re sorry.”_

_“I know,” he murmured, his ears flattening against his head. “I look sorry, I_ am _sorry…”_

_“Don’t feel bad about it. You’ve gone through a lot.” Sinclair backed away as his sparks increased. “I’d say that if I hadn’t found you back in Mossdeep, you would’ve slowly drained yourself and met a quiet but painful end.”_

_“…”_

_“However, you’re with me now, and I’ve vowed to never watch another child pass before his time. You, my friend, have not reached that time yet.” He clapped his paws on Dominic’s cheeks, giving him a little wake-up shock. “So I want you to try as hard as you can.”_

_“…Try…?” he whispered. Sinclair nodded gravely._

_“Try. To Live. As long as you have the strength to try, I won’t ever give up on you, Dominic.”_

_“I’ll…try.” Sinclair smiled, obviously relieved, yet he was none too gentle as he forced Dominic to eat his Berries even as he felt like throwing up just looking at them, but eventually he did get all of them in his stomach. Dominic went outside as night fell and saw the young Skarmory and Lairon, similarly freeloading Sinclair’s kindness, sleeping on the grass under the stars. He thought it would be a little better than sleeping in the attic and laid between them, closing his eyes. He jerked awake a second later as he realized how familiar things felt. Even if the world around him didn’t smell like sea salt and quartz rock and spicy meat dinner, it still felt so familiar, and he hadn’t had any good memories of Steven in so long… Still thinking about him, Dominic drifted off, and this time he had no nightmares._

_…_

_“No! Try harder!” Dominic was knocked flat on his back with stars bursting in his vision as the last of Sinclair’s electricity dissipated from his body. He thought that the Earth Plates tied to his sides would help, however Sinclair’s voltage was much too high to be deterred that way. AB, the local prankster Ghost-type, was laughing so hard every time he was knocked down._

_“I’m trying…hard as I…can…” he wheezed, rolling onto his stomach. Sinclair crossed his arms over his chest._

_“You can try much harder than that.”_

_“You’re putting…too much faith…”_

_“Not; in fact, I believe I’m putting too little.” The notion startled Dominic, then it invigorated him as he raced forward, only to be put down by another Thunderbolt. He was sent on his side and stared at the ground as his body completely refused him. “Get_ up, _Dominic!” He repeated those words in his head over and over, forcing his body to move, forcing it to do something… Warmth filled his still limbs, and unlike his electrocution it was a pleasant type of warm, like Steven’s fireplace on a rainy night. He stared at his paws as they grew longer, forming larger claws able to tear skin (he loathed to think of what else they could tear) and watched his fur poof out under his neck like a floatation device. He kicked his legs out as they grew, feeling his joints crack as they reversed and adjusted, then he wiggled his nose as it grew into a full muzzle. He planted his legs on the ground and felt them shake and tremble, but he pushed himself onto all fours._

_“I…evolved,” he whispered, staring hard at his new long claws as they dug into the dirt. Sinclair laughed._

_“That, you did.” Dominic fell on his stomach, his legs not used to his new weight but instead of crying out he burst into laughter, silencing even AB._

_“I evolved… I evolved!”_

 

——————

 

Weeks passed. Dominic couldn’t be too sure how, as doing nothing for days on end numbed his brain more than a little, but it felt like they were spending too much time doing nothing. Yet every time he tried to leave, Sinclair persuaded him otherwise, “You and Reyes are too injured to go around fighting anybody,” and although he was more than right, he still couldn’t stand sitting around and knowing that he was dragging the rebels and revolutionaries to Petalburg just by being there. “I’m telling you it’s fine,” Sinclair would also say, but it still didn’t help. There were two large problems with their staying in his home:

 

Dominic had literally nothing better to do than to watch Sinclair’s small T.V. (well, _everything_ in the house was Pichu-sized, but he was used to it) or sit outside in the sun on the occupied porch, and considering that he was not a sunbathing type of creature, he chose T.V. Flipping through channels wasn’t much better for his sanity than just laying around, especially when he stumbled upon the news networks: all of them were talking about the escalating revolution. Apparently, it had been building up over the last few weeks (Gee, I wonder why, he thought sourly), and what happened—or rather, what they had _caused_ in Lilycove City—was a catalyst for the fighting to resume. Video clips of brawls between rebels and revolutionaries poisoned his mind as he searched for anything else to watch, but still, every time he closed his eyes he was reminded of that day in Mossdeep City where he first witnessed the revolution. Now, it was worsening all over again… And it was his fault. Their fault. _His_ fault.

 

“You’re beating yourself up,” Sinclair told him. Dominic realized that he was staring at nothing; Sinclair had turned off the T.V. a while ago. How long ago? He tried to get up from the floor (Sinclair’s couch was too small for him to comfortably lie down upon) but his chest and abdomen gave a loud protest of pain and he curled in on himself. Sinclair grabbed his ear, giving him a shock so strong that he jerked upright involuntarily. “You can’t shut down either. You’ve already done that too many times in your life, and I can tell you that it doesn’t work.”

 

“Then…what does that leave me with?” he demanded. “I can’t bear the pain…of knowing what I’m doing…to everybody else…by just being here…”

 

“Yes, your existence causes a lot of pain,” Sinclair agreed.

 

“And…Reyes would’ve been better…if he’d never followed me away from Ever Grande…”

 

“Yes, that’s also correct. He would still be with his best friend, who would be alive, safe in the city.”

 

“And…and…a selfish brat like me…wouldn’t have to ruin anybody else’s life…” he whispered.

 

“That, I must argue with,” Sinclair said, catching him by surprise. “You’re a lot of things, but _selfish_ isn’t one of them. A selfish man would never think so much about everybody that he’s bumped into along the way, nor would he have forced himself into exile to avoiding taking further lives. You’re worried about Reyes and many others that you’ve hurt, and you’re willing to stake your life by running away in this condition to protect him and future Pokémon… How is that selfish, Dominic?” He couldn’t answer. “The only thing I can call selfish right now is you trying to take yourself away from the people that care for you.”

 

“B…But why…?” He wanted to cry but the tears wouldn’t come.

 

“Why do we care? or why are you trying to take yourself away?” He sighed and shook his head. “You’re not a stupid guy, Dominic. You want to take yourself away because for the first time in a while, this—,” he pointed at Dominic’s heart, “is thinking for you, rather than these,” he said, gesturing to his claws. “And to answer your first question…”

 

——————

 

The second problem was Reyes. He had, for all intents and purposes, shut himself down to the world, sitting around in a meditative state and refusing any attempts of interaction. He was like a Darmanitan in Zen Mode, he was just so—impossible. Dominic wasn’t used to stubbornness outside of himself, and so it was refreshingly annoying when every day Reyes stayed outside to watch the sun move without saying an arceusdamn word, come in to eat maybe half a meal out of the three, then go back outside until he was painfully persuaded to go inside and sleep for three hours. The cycle restarted in a quotidian manner, and in a sick way Dominic was grateful for Reyes’ pain; it kept him from completely losing a sense of time and therefore grounded. Still, it was annoying even as Dominic understood why Reyes was like that, seeing his self-destructive nature growing by the day, and he tried to snap him out of it every time they met, which quickly became Dominic petulantly talking to himself as Reyes stayed silent.

 

“He needs to snap out of it,” Sinclair agreed one day. “What he did was bad enough the first time, but now he’s reliving it over and over like his personal Hell. If he keeps doing that, he’ll break into little pieces that he can’t regrow.”

 

“How do I help? I’m not the best when it comes to touchy-feely goo.”

 

“Maybe, but you can sympathize, can’t you?”

 

“…”

 

Reyes was sitting outside of Sinclair’s house and facing the trees outside of the city. He was so still that he could’ve been dead—actually, Dominic thought that he was dead until Reyes gave a tired sigh. Dominic sat next to him and took the awkward silence like an old friend. Behind them, the other old houses of Petalburg’s Pokémon community flickered with bright yellow light as the sun disappeared down the horizon.

 

“I like this place,” Dominic said to break the silence. “I used to fear it, you know, because Pokémon and humans living within feet of each other felt so unnatural. Now, I wish that every city would be like this.” He frowned to himself at the thought, then he barked out a curt laugh as he clapped his claws against his forehead. “I never used to think like this before… What the hell’s wrong with me? Is this maybe Capgras delusion, or was I grown in a seed pod?” He expected a joke or something from Reyes, but he still remained silent. “…You’re making me nervous, silent as you are,” he said with a nervous laugh. He sobered up a second later, lowering his eyes to the ground.

 

“…When I met you, I thought you were just a pain, your way of thinking even more so,” Dominic continued. “But… Come to find out you’re more refreshing than you appear. I was… I still am, in fact, a selfish brat that harms others and pushes them away to protect myself, but because of you I realized that I can be better than that, that I can help and not just hurt…” He blinked and rubbed at his eyes furiously, however his tears still stained his fur. He dropped his claws to clench his forearms so tightly that they nearly dug through his bandages. “But I was hurting myself and I didn’t realize it. All those years I spent trying to isolate myself so everybody else would be fine, I was carving a hole in my heart so big that it couldn’t be filled. And yet, what you’ve shown me and what you’ve said to me has begun to seal that chasm.

 

“Reyes, what I want to say is that you’re a good guy, damn near pure. There aren’t many pure people or Pokémon in this world anymore, not since the revolution. It even started because of corruption with the Legendary Pokémon, which we saw as the original paragon of purity. You’re pure enough to stand against everything that you’ve stood for for years just to save a guy like me, and even when I didn’t want you next to me, you still…you still stayed…” He hated the way his sobbing sounded, like he was a cub again, but he couldn’t help it. “A-And you fought…with me…and you’re…you’re really a hero, Rey… What happened to Azalea was…it was certain…because you c-chose to be with a monster like me…and you probably h-hate me for it…but…”

 

Dominic was cut off as Reyes’ arms went around him, but he wasn’t trying to shut him up. He sat there, stunned still, his claws in the air so that he wouldn’t accidently prick him, but Reyes was really hugging him. He heard Reyes choke down a moan and he couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t even wrap his head around the idea that Reyes could be so—so— _vulnerable_. “My choice,” he said, his voice cracking, “is my choice. I’ve made it in good conscience; Azalea…didn’t. She didn’t know the truth. She didn’t deserve to die—without knowing the truth—” He couldn’t choke down his next sob, his body shaking. “Sunny…didn’t deserve to die… Brendan…didn’t… James… Amar… Lenny… Omar… Pops… Jean… I had to watch, had to feel the life leave them… Had to _end them myself_ to shorten their suffering… And the pain, i-it never goes… Just coils and knots until—”

 

“Reyes. Just shut up.” Dominic vaguely wondered how many tears Reyes had shed over his friends. He had plenty of them, being a revolutionary, but he also had to watch all of them fall down and die in front of him—even had to kill them himself at times, he said. Dominic had long since shut himself off to that pain, but Reyes obviously didn’t have the same luxury. He was emotional, which both of them knew, and in the times of the revolution it was both a blessing and a curse.

 

“T…The people…I care about…keep going away… I can’t stand it!” he continued regardless.

 

“You can’t stop them from dying… That’s out of your power.”

 

“I wish it wasn’t… Do you know the pain of seeing the mutilated body of your daughter, your own flesh and blood?” He was shaking now, like a bomb about to blow.

 

“No, I don’t. I also don’t know the pain of watching your Trainer die or having to kill your best friend in cold blood.” And he really thought about it, and no, he didn’t. He never once felt guilt for what he had done. “I’m a killer, remember, Reyes? There’s no heart to be spoken of at all.” That, on the other hand, was a lie. _I have a heart, it’s just not as carin’ as yours looks._ _That’s right…it’s more carin’, believe it or not._ “…I could never feel the amount of pain that you do, because you care too much. But there’s nothing wrong with feeling pain—it means that you’re still humane.”

 

“It makes me wish…I wasn’t.”

 

“Don’t say that! Being able to feel…to feel and care…is a great thing. I wish that I…but I never could, never can. So be grateful for that gift.” He squeezed Reyes’ arms. “Alright?”

 

_“And to answer your first question… You’re a broken guy. Pity attracts others to you, then they realize that maybe you’re not so broken after all.”_

“We’re both two broken guys,” Dominic muttered. “This is just another hurdle, and we’ll both get through. Okay?” He shook Reyes a little to stop his moaning. “Okay?”

 

“O…kay,” he complied, a little of the huskiness leaving his voice as vague humor took its place. And they stayed like that for a long time.


	22. 3.2. Hell Is a Fun Place

“Ow. Reyes, I’m not into bondage play.”

 

“Be quiet.” Reyes tapped Dominic on the nose with his fist as he dangled helplessly from a thick tree branch, bound and strung up by Reyes’ vines. “So you’re ‘O for five now, am I right?”

 

“Six…” he corrected petulantly. He squirmed until Reyes finally severed the vines with his leaf blades, causing Dominic to unceremoniously hit the grass.

 

“Is it just me, or are you out of practice?” He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought that this sparring would be just that, but apparently it’s just a butt-kicking session. Maybe you should’ve done more than lie around and watch T.V. for three months.”

 

“Shut up before I prune your leaves,” he grumbled, running his claws through his mane to pick out the twigs and leaves. He was still getting used to not having anything in there after so long. “I’m just a little out of practice, okay?”

 

“A little? Try _a lot._ Or maybe the last six times were a big fluke?”

 

“Square up!” He made to claw Reyes’ arm off but Reyes grabbed his wrist and flipped him onto his back.

 

“I’ve got a question,” he said seriously. “Why are you talking like that?”

 

“Like…what?” he groaned, getting to his knees. Reyes offered a hand to help him up.

 

“Different.”

 

“I, uh… Because of… I used to…” He sighed. “I didn’t want to waste time speaking because I really believed that I wouldn’t have the time, so I shortened my words as much as possible.”

 

“Then what’s the difference now?”

 

“I realized I was hyper paranoid,” he smiled. “Now, well, there’s too much that I want to say.”

 

“For now, at least, we have the time.” He looked at Sinclair’s house curiously. “How did you meet that man?”

 

“I didn’t meet him so much as he found me,” Dominic explained. “In the aftermath of Mossdeep City, I wasn’t in any state to get by or even survive. Sinclair was one of the Pokémon there to help repair, and I really needed him to repair me…” He made, as best he could, an image of what it was like when Sinclair found him. It wasn’t to a T, but Reyes got the point.

 

“You were in a horrible state.”

 

“I know. Had it not been for him, I’d be dead.” He smiled ruefully. “Or maybe that’s not such a bad thing?” His illusion dispelled into a cloud of grey smoke as Reyes grabbed his shoulders.

 

“Don’t say that—ever,” he growled. “Your life is valuable no matter what. Never forget that, Dominic.”

 

“Trust me, I don’t think I can. Now, my life is attributed to all of the stupid decisions that you make to keep me alive.”

 

“My ‘stupidity’ is my business. Please, Dominic, no more,” he said tiredly, and Dominic relented.

 

“Sinclair taught me how to fight for my life, but it was the King that turned it into fighting to take others’. I left him when I turned thirteen to…ah…make my own path or some stupid crap like that. And for all of those two years, I got two dozen scars and no headway. Still, these scars served as Pokémon School for me.” He dropped his bodily illusion and pointed to three long claw marks on his shoulder. “These taught me never to wake a sleeping Zangoose.” He moved his claws to a nearly-faded gouge over his spleen. “This taught me that a hungry Victreebell is nothing to patronize, even on a good day.” He took hold of his chewed-off ear. “This taught me that even a Chansey can turn savage with the right provocation.” He hesitated before grabbing Reyes’ wrist, laying his hand over the scar on his heart. “This taught me that even if I have to subjugate myself and lay down as a common dog, so be it, because Pokémon like Blaziken will completely disintegrate me if I do otherwise.”

 

“…I’m sorry,” Reyes said, taking his hand away. “As a Grass-type, I don’t have scars to show.”

 

“Yes, you do,” he said. “They’re on your heart though, and they hurt ten times as much as all of these. Worse still, you can’t make an illusion to make yourself feel better.”

 

“I’ve survived so far,” he said in the same contrite tone. “It’ll take a lot to end my life now, huh?”

 

“Maybe not a lot,” he smirked right before he tackled Reyes to the ground, pinning his arms to the dirt. “Hah! I got you!”

 

“So it seems,” Reyes smiled. “Perhaps you _can_ be taught.” Reyes turned his hands downwards and buried his claws into the dirt, and a second later Dominic felt his ankles get seized by them as they grew under their bodies. “Seven times.”

 

“Seven times,” he acknowledged sullenly, standing up. Reyes released his vines and stood up as well, putting them eye-to-eye.

 

“How is this?” Reyes asked all of a sudden, poking Dominic in his sore chest. It appeared that he was referring to his self-inflicted claw marks.

 

“They’ll heal.”

 

“Yes, but why did you gouge your own chest out?” he demanded.

 

“You were going to die,” he said harshly. “The King was going to burn you up… I had to stop him, and to stop hellfire you either take away the malice or the man—in my case, I had to take away the man.” His shoulders slumped as he remembered.

 

“You…what?” They were distracted as Sinclair poked his head through the open window.

 

“There’s food available if you two lovers are done talking.”

 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m in the mood to eat,” Dominic said, effectively ending that conversation as he went inside. Sinclair’s living room had become a mess of blood, used bandages, and stray leaves, and no matter how often they cleaned it the same thing happened again and again. Dominic had the nasty feeling that he would be forced to atone one way or another, but for the moment he was focused on their dinner. He went into the little kitchen and stopped cold. “I forgot,” he muttered dejectedly, for he had forgotten that unlike himself, Sinclair was a vegetarian. It was one of the few things he remembered hating about living with him.

 

“I had a feeling you did, otherwise you wouldn’t have been so ecstatic,” Sinclair smiled, sliding the dreaded bowl of Berries over to Dominic. He blew a raspberry as he sunk to the ground.

 

“I haven’t had meat in so long… Look, my canines are going dull. I’m supposed to be a predator, you guys.”

 

“You don’t even have enough teeth to eat meat anymore. And technically, you’re killing these plants,” Sinclair said, taking up a large Oran Berry. “Just imagine that the juice is their blood.”

 

“I’m not eight anymore,” he complained, stuffing his mouth full of Berries.

 

“And we’ll be leaving in the morning, so be sure to sleep as well as you can,” Sinclair told them.

 

“To where?” Reyes asked.

 

“We’re going to find some friends of mine. It’ll be better than going in as we are.”

 

“Have I met these friends?” Dominic asked, swallowing.

 

“You’ve met Jay and AB,” Sinclair said. “And there are others.”

 

“Jay, sure, but AB? I’ll take my chances with Alakazam.”

 

“Who is AB?” Reyes asked. Sinclair laughed while Dominic filled his mouth with as many sour Berries as possible to match his mood.

 

“AB is Abdullah, this Haunter that used to play the dumbest pranks on me… He didn’t even talk to me when we first met, just haunted me for three days until I damn near went psycho—no comments on that!”

 

“It was good-natured fun between children,” Sinclair chuckled. Dominic exhaled through his nose but didn’t argue further. “And that was almost eight years ago. My friends are rebels and revolutionaries now.”

 

“Neither of which are very fond of us at the moment,” Reyes pointed out.

 

“Yes, but as long as I ask them for the favor, they’ll help. Dominic is not the only one that I’ve saved from the revolution. There were very many pieces to pick up afterwards and not nearly enough people and Pokémon to do it, however I’ve tried my hardest. Still, I could not save all that I tried to…” His expression grew dark as he remembered, and Dominic did too. Sinclair’s house didn’t just have him in the beginning—it was him and a Cascoon and a wingless Venomoth and a Houndour with a broken leg. None of them had the strength to live through the first week except Dominic, and those were just the first batch. “But you can’t save them all, I suppose,” he sighed, getting back to reality.

 

“I used to be a revolutionary soldier,” Reyes said hesitantly. “I know that more than anybody.”

 

“I can tell. There’s a profound sadness in your eyes, Reyes. It’s curious, really, how much sadness coexists with kindness inside of you. One cannot be born without the other, maybe,” he thought aloud. “But what would I know?”

 

“I don’t know if you’re being sarcastic or not, but you’re quite knowledgeable.”

 

“I’ve never considered myself as much, I just pay attention to the little things.” He peeled a Tamato Berry carefully before taking a bite. “You’d be amazed how much you can learn simply from watching others. You, for instance, had a Trainer that you’ve loved and lost, as well as a mate and…a son? No, a daughter,” he corrected, but it didn’t affect Reyes’ shocked expression. “Little nuances can mean the world.”

 

“It’s…hard to keep secrets around Sinclair, and that’s putting it mildly,” Dominic muttered, pushing the remainder of his Berries away. “I’m going to sleep.”

 

“Don’t,” Sinclair warned him. “You should finish your Berries—they’ll help you heal faster. In your state you still have a chance of going critical, Dominic.”

 

“I’ll be _fine._ ” He went to the corner and laid down, curling into a ball. “Just need a nap and I’ll be perfectly fine.”

 

“Or you’ll go into shock and never wake up.”

 

“That would be nice…” At the look that they gave him, he returned a jocular grin. “I’m kidding around.” But really, he was thinking: _Is this really what it felt like back then…being around people that love you?_ In the end he did go into shock, and when he got out of it Reyes tied him down so that Sinclair could force Berries down his throat for the second time in his life, but he was smiling through it. They cared, as stupid and irresponsible and ridiculous as it was, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything in any world.


	23. 3.3. Turn Back To Revolution

“Let’s go,” Sinclair said from his position on Dominic’s head. Dominic was so blasé about it that Reyes got the feeling he used to do it very frequently.

 

“Won’t you miss this place?” Reyes asked, looking at his home.

 

“It’s just a house, Reyes, and lately it’s felt like less than that with just myself living there.”

 

“Aww, did you miss me?” Dominic asked.

 

“I miss being like a father,” Sinclair agreed. That statement threw Dominic off and he stared resolutely into the distance. “Although I don’t miss how broken you were those years ago. I enjoy seeing you now as a young adult, crazier and kinder than I thought you could be.”

 

“Kind? Me?” he sputtered, shocked.

 

“You’d be surprised. But we’re burning daylight, you two.”

 

“Right you are.” Reyes hiked his new backpack higher on his shoulders and looked out into the trees with determination. “We’ve got some trash to take out.”

 

——————

 

It took two hours’ worth of walking, but they were deep within Petalburg Woods, darkness and the smell of damp moss settling over them. Sinclair left Dominic’s head to skitter up a tree and onto a branch, raising his ears to the noises of the forest.

 

“Oh, he’s here,” he said after a while. He raised his tail and ears as sparks flared off of them, setting nearby leaves aflame, and he glanced at Dominic and Reyes upon remembering their presence. “I suggest that you two ground yourselves now…otherwise you’ll be in extreme pain.”

 

“I suggest that we take his suggestion,” Dominic said, grabbing Reyes’ arm and pulling him to the ground before digging his claws into the dirt. Seeing that they were prepared, Sinclair braced himself before releasing a wave of electricity that severely blackened the trunks of nearby trees and sent every living being in the woods scattering with pain. Reyes felt the power prickle over his skin, giving it an uncomfortable tingle, but obviously it could’ve been worse. Dominic appeared fine, although his mane was standing entirely on end. Reyes waited until the last of the electricity dissipated before raising his head.

 

“Done gave me one hell of a wakeup call, Sinclair,” a grouchy voice said in the distance. Reyes’ head was knocked back down as something jumped on it. “And I was having a great nap…”

 

“You’ve been napping as long as I’ve known you,” Sinclair smirked. “It’s nice to see you out of hibernation, Jacob.”

 

“Jacob?” The thing finally left Reyes’ head and hit the ground. He looked through the dirt to see a Pichu, although something about its coloring was odd. He couldn’t see well within the dark woods but it appeared to be Pikachu-colored.

 

“That’s Jay to you,” the Pichu said, turning to look at Reyes. He scowled as Dominic raised his head. “And Dominic…how long it’s been.”

 

“Yeah, that,” Dominic muttered, smoothing his fur down. “You used to turn me into a fur-ball every time you came over.”

 

“It was funny,” he grinned. “Still is, matter of fact.” Sinclair jumped to the ground and ran over to touch tails with Jay. They raised their ears and laughed at the contact.

 

“How old is he?” Reyes asked Dominic. He shrugged in response.

 

“Hell if I know. He may be two hundred.”

 

“You know what? I think I’ve seen those two before,” Reyes said, staring at them playing together.

 

“Must’ve been a video game event or something. And I hope that we don’t have other business in these woods—they’re giving me bad memories.” Dominic shuddered, finally catching Sinclair’s attention.

 

“Right, right. We do have places to be.” Sinclair ran up Dominic’s body to nest in his mane, followed by his friend Jay. Dominic jumped as it frizzed out again from their voltage, then Sinclair’s head poked out.

 

“Next, Rustboro,” he said before disappearing inside again. Dominic and Reyes exchanged a look.

 

“Things are looking bright so far,” Reyes said sarcastically.

 

“Better than before,” he replied, looking through the trees. Still, he seemed uneasy.

 

“What’s the matter?”

 

“Oh, nothing.” Reyes grabbed Dominic’s shoulder as he attempted to walk away.

 

“Dominic, don’t shake me off. We’ve been through too much together for you to do that.” He spun Dominic around so that he was forced to make eye contact.

 

“Jeez, don’t be such a worrywart. You should look out for yourself more.” He wasn’t good at dodging a subject but he looked genuinely uncomfortable.

 

“You’re lucky that we’re pressed for time.” Reyes released him. “But I want the truth.”

 

“You’ll get it,” he mumbled, turning his back. “Eventually.”

 

——————

 

Being in Rustboro should have made Dominic as apprehensive as Petalburg Woods, yet he only seemed deep in thought. His expression changed when they reached a certain spot within the city. “Police tape,” he commented, tugging on the remnants of it around the house.

 

“What did you expect?”

 

“It _not_ to still be here? I don’t know. It’s been months, hasn’t it?” He scratched his neck, visibly uncomfortable, before forcibly drawing his attention away.

 

“What exactly did you do?” Jay questioned.

 

“I, uh, broke in and ate their breakfast cereal,” Dominic said. “My love of variety packs is downright sinful.”

 

“Oi, that ain’t funny.”

 

“Well? Who are we looking for?” Sinclair crawled to the apex of his head.

 

“You don’t know her.”

 

“Her?” he repeated.

 

“Yes, she’s a female, hence the _her_.” He sniffed the air before pointing towards the Pokémon Trainer’s School. “She’s over there. Hurry up.”

 

“Jeez,” Dominic complained, shuddering as Sinclair began sparking again. Reyes looked around and couldn’t help but notice the marks of desolation growing on the city. It wasn’t too obvious at first glance, but there were freshly-built parts of buildings, some being entire floors, and lingering scorch marks on the dirt. Moreover, the streets of the large city were almost completely deserted with only a few stragglers. He remembered something that Dominic had said before, that the revolution was escalating again, and he could see the signs in front of him. On top of that, it had to be worse in other cities, not just the little scuff marks he was seeing in Rustboro. “Reyes?” Dominic asked, nudging his arm. “Earth to Reyes?”

 

“I’m fine.” Dominic narrowed his eyes in his old King manner. It made Reyes wonder about the King; he helped Reyes earlier in Lilycove but Reyes hadn’t seen ear nor ponytail of the guy since then. It didn’t seem right to ask Dominic to subjugate himself for the King either, so he had been waiting for him to make an expected domination, yet he hadn’t in all of the twelve weeks they spent at Sinclair’s house. Dominic hadn’t brought it up at all though, so he didn’t see too much cause to worry.

 

“Don’t lie.”

 

“You’re one to talk. You’ve had that expression on your face since we got here.”

 

“What expression?”

 

“The expression one makes when they think of something horrible.”

 

“I’m always thinking of something horrible—you have to be a little more specific.” He wasn’t exactly being smart-mouthed but it was the Dominic equivalent of it. Dominic saw Reyes’ expression and led out a heavy breath. “Thinking about what the revolution is doing to others?” he asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Me too,” he responded, and they became silent.

 

The Pokémon Trainer’s School was in the midst of a lesson on self-defense when they entered. Gym Leader Roxanne was teaching alongside a young man with a white cap over dark hair, but the class halted when the students and teachers caught sight of the three (or rather, four) of them. Roxanne’s Pokémon, expectedly a Geodude, took a little while to notice them, but the man’s Blaziken was too quick in recognizing their presence. Reyes stared at the Blaziken for several seconds before recognition clicked and his jaw dropped.

 

“Who’s the goof with the bike shorts?” Dominic asked Reyes obliviously. Even Sinclair let out a disappointed sigh, and inside his mane Jay complained profanely.

 

“Goof with bike shorts,” Asterisk, undoubtedly one of the most well-known Pokémon in the regions and even more certainly the most well-known Blaziken in Hoenn alongside _the_ Blaziken, repeated hesitantly, seemingly doubting her hearing. “…I hope you have a will written already, saying those words.”

 

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to my dinner speaking back to me—what did you say?” Dominic’s fur was standing on end, his claws out, and Reyes grabbed his shoulder before he could make mincemeat and a nice pelt out of himself.

 

“Dominic, that—that young man right there is the one who beat Steven years ago, Pokémon Trainer Brendan— _the_ Brendan—and that’s his Blaziken, Asterisk.”

 

“Brendan?” he repeated, perplexed. “But Brendan was a little boy right?”

 

“There’s a thing called ‘the passage of time’, Dominic…”

 

“That’s one genius that you’re paired up with, Sceptile,” Asterisk commented deprecatingly, glancing at her Trainer before returning her piercing gaze to them. She eyed Reyes from top to bottom, making him feel exposed, before doing the same to Dominic, who got a weird dazed expression on his face as she did so. Her eyes finally landed on Sinclair and a little smile crossed her beak.

 

“…Am I missing something here?” Brendan asked, grabbing her shoulder. She looked at him obediently and returned to his side as Roxanne took control of the class.

 

“Okay, um… Class dismissed early!” she said, clapping her hands together. The students eyed Dominic and Reyes like a floor show as they shuffled past with their Pokémon. They waited until the building had completely emptied before they faced off against each other.

 

“Are they rebels?” Brendan asked Asterisk seriously.

 

“No,” Reyes answered.

 

“Well, not anymore,” Dominic said somewhat bitterly.

 

“What do _you_ think?” Sinclair and Jay asked.

 

“I think that you’ve always been inclined to take in anybody regardless of transgressions,” Asterisk said to Sinclair, pointing her talon at him. “For all I know, they’re serial killers.”

 

“Well—” Dominic started before Reyes grabbed his muzzle.

 

“And haven’t I seen your faces before?” she continued in a more vehement voice, eyes narrowed at the two of them. “From the destruction of Lilycove City three months ago. And you—” She gripped Dominic’s face tightly, angling it this way and that. “…You’re the King, aren’t you?” Her wrists flared up and Dominic unsuccessfully tried to pry her talons off as his fur singed.

 

“Risky, can you please let him go?” Sinclair asked. Asterisk gritted her beak as her grip tightened. She was clenching his muzzle so hard that Dominic’s feet cleared the floor a few inches and started flailing, his eyes wild. Brendan looked from him to her and to Sinclair, who was still sitting comfortably on Dominic’s head, and frowned.

 

“Are you following what’s going on?” Roxanne asked him, taking her Geodude into her arms. Brendan sighed and made to shake his head before stopping.

 

“Somewhat. I don’t understand why they’ve come here—obviously it’s not to attack us.”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Asterisk growled. “They’re enemies.”

 

“Lady I am public enemy number-arceusdamn- _two_ at the moment! Change your arceusdamn priorities!” Dominic hissed. It sure as hell wasn’t helping his cause and Asterisk was still in the perfect position to squeeze his eyeballs out of his thick skull.

 

“Risky,” Sinclair chided. “Let him go.” Reyes didn’t think that he could get away with speaking to Asterisk as if she was a child like that, but to his jaw-dropping amazement she let Dominic hit the ground. Dominic scrambled to his feet so fast that he almost fell on his face. Sinclair jumped from his head to Reyes’ shoulder, getting eye-level with Asterisk. “Now, I know that these aren’t the most ideal of allies,” he started, giving a not-so-subtle head shake in their direction, “but their hearts are in the right place.”

 

“That’s not what the general populace says,” Asterisk argued.

 

“They don’t know the truth.” He held out his paws defenselessly. “I don’t see morals in saving children’s lives, which you’re not the first to berate me for, but when it comes to _thousands_ of lives, I choose the side of justice—these two, as hard as it is to believe, would be that side.” Asterisk narrowed her eyes, still skeptical. “And we want you on this side as well.”

 

“For what, precisely?” Asterisk demanded.

 

“We’re fighting Alakazam.”

 

“I hope you’re speaking of a different Alakazam than in my imaginings.”

 

“No, the very same.”

 

“Then you must have gone senile. I will not fight that man and I’ve no idea on Earth why _you_ would want to,” she said bolshily. Sinclair sighed, although not with impatience. Obviously he expected her response.

 

“Risky, these two have good reason for the idiotic task they’ve taken up.”

 

“Yes, thank you,” Reyes said sardonically. “Alakazam is becoming crooked, and he’s getting even more so by the day. He’s harming innocents and we won’t stand for it.” She held out her talons.

 

“Proof?” They exchanged a look.

 

“I, uh, he tried to kill me?” Dominic said.

 

“That’s not proof. I am very certain that many Pokémon wish to kill you at the moment.”

 

“Damn! Am I really that transparent?”

 

“Shut up, Dominic? Asterisk, we really do have good reason—”

 

“Not as far as I can see,” she interrupted.

 

“Then you must be farsighted,” Jay said. She spotted him and glared with all the ferocity of a predator to prey, causing Jay to take his immediate leave from her field of vision and retreat back into Dominic’s mane.

 

“Please, Asterisk, for the sake of humankind and pokémonkind,” Reyes pleaded. She set her jaw and remained in pace; comically, Brendan emulated the gesture.

 

“No,” she repeated with steel in her voice. “My final answer is no.”

 

“Aster—”

 

“Wait, let me handle this,” Dominic said, cutting him off as he leaned in close to her. He whispered in her ear and Reyes was briefly reminded of when he did the same to Azalea. Sans the initial shock of pain and grief, he remembered that it didn’t end well for him, but suddenly Asterisk was…blushing? He leaned back and she suddenly grabbed his forearms, startling him and Brendan still.

 

“Were you…serious?” she asked enthusiastically.

 

“…Yes,” he said, quickly recovering. “One hundred percent.”

 

“Brendan,” she said to her Trainer. “This will only take a few days’ worth of my absence.” Brendan was still looking between them, perplexed.

 

“Uh, Asterisk—” Roxanne put her hand on his arm, shaking her head at him.

 

“If I were you, I wouldn’t get in this,” she warned in response to Asterisk’s fervent expression. “Asterisk is strong—she can survive anything. Besides, your team is already perfect without her.”

 

“Mm… For now,” Brendan conceded, hiking his travelling pack higher on his shoulders. “I have to go visit Mom anyway and make sure she’s all right. Asterisk, be safe—don’t lose your virtue or anything,” he said, but for all the response he got, he was wasting his breath. Roxanne herded him away before he had time to protest.

 

“Wow,” was all Reyes could say.

 

“It seems Dominic has a hidden repertoire of skills,” Sinclair smirked. Jay’s grumbles caused Dominic’s mane to vibrate.

 

“You think?”

 

“Uh…” Dominic said warily as she kept their intense eye-contact. Her blush slowly faded as she released him, sweeping past him.

 

“Onto the next city, I guess,” Sinclair said. They turned towards the door, but as Dominic passed by Asterisk she suddenly grabbed his arm, pulling him flush against her much taller body, and shoved her beak against his muzzle none too gracefully. She released him a couple of seconds later and continued as if nothing had happened, but Dominic’s bad leg suddenly buckled and Reyes had to catch him.

 

“Hello? Dominic?” He had a goofy grin on his face and his eyes were crossed.

 

“I’m here, I’m here.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“No, not really.” He managed to stand but kept that ridiculous look on his face, and even when he clapped his claws against his cheeks the expression stayed. “I didn’t know I could get a Champion Pokémon.”

 

“Call it Arceus’ pity on a soul doomed to be alone and let’s hurry up.” The goofy grin finally left his face and he was sullen for the rest of the trip.

 

——————

 

They had to camp out just outside of Rusturf Tunnel as the sun set. Dominic of course was still ready to go, but the other non-nocturnal creatures weren’t. He sulked under a tree as they prepared to go to sleep. “Take watch for us,” Reyes told him. “In case Alakazam or Blaziken try something else.”

 

“I’m already awake,” he said. “So I guess I’m already watching.” Reyes didn’t reply, mainly because he knew Dominic would be bored and lonely just sitting around with nowhere to go. He laid down to sleep but was woken maybe fifteen minutes later by two things: Jay’s obnoxiously loud snoring and Sinclair and Dominic’s more muted conversation. It was, however, a better thing to focus on than snoring.

 

“It’s nice to know that your brain hasn’t completely rotted in all of your lethargy,” Sinclair commented. Dominic snorted through his nose.

 

“I feel weaker. Also, if I take one hit in this leg, I’m done.” He sighed. “We wasted so much time. Do you know how many lives could’ve been lost?”

 

“No,” he admitted. “But I know that had you two gone out there in that condition, then you would’ve become casualties as well.” Reyes swallowed. “Is that what you want? To go out there and die fighting? It is noble in a way, I’ll admit, but to just give up on everything—”

 

“ _I don’t want to die,_ ” he interrupted angrily before he lost his steam. “…I just don’t want to be bad luck for everyone that I meet anymore. I’m always ruining people’s lives…”

 

“You didn’t ruin my life,” he pointed out.

 

“Reyes…”

 

“I don’t think you ruined his life either.” He did, in fact, Reyes thought. But now, I don’t mind quite as much.

 

“How about every other living being I’ve come in contact with?” he muttered. “Arceus… I’m just like poison to people.” He let out a bitter laugh and then a weak moan. “But I’m just kicking a dead Rapidash right?”

 

“I don’t believe I get the analogy.”

 

“I don’t think I got it right anyway.” He moaned again, making Reyes think that he was crying. “You can’t change my mind, you know. I’ll always believe that I can’t do anything except hurt people. It’s been that way for seven years.”

 

“Oh, I know how stubborn you are with a thought,” Sinclair said. “But even if you’re a walking nuclear bomb or Absol in disguise, I’ll still love you.”

 

“I don’t… I can’t understand why.” But his tone said that he did. Sinclair laughed anyway.

 

“We may not be blood related, but you and I, we’re like father and son.” Dominic took a deep breath as if it physically pained him to speak.

 

“Don’t you know the story of Oedipus?” Reyes forced himself to go to sleep then, because Dominic’s reply was very unsettling.

 

——————

 

The last that Reyes heard of Verdanturf, it was the territory of a Sableye rebel, but the town looked majorly unchanged, if not a little scruffy, as they entered from the Rusturf Tunnel. Nostalgia hit him like a sledgehammer as the sweet, clean wind whistled through his ears as some forgotten song, the scent of spring flowers filling his nose as he saw the usual manicured neighborhoods, which had grown larger but remained otherwise just as he remembered. Pikachu Park was still the best place for a game of basketball, baseball, and/or hockey; the Neills had the best lawn out of all southern houses; Goose was still selling homemade and half-burnt popcorn at the corner, chili and salt and antacid optional; Brendan’s house, even, was still there, but any hopes Reyes had were crushed when a different family walked through the door and to the car.

 

“Do you…need a minute?” Dominic muttered, looking at Reyes from the corner of his eye. Compared to Verdanturf, Dominic was another kind of familiar, not particularly bad but different. Different, yeah.

 

“I’m…fine. This place just caught me off guard, that’s all.” Sinclair eyed him but didn’t say anything on the matter.

 

“AB said that he’s working in the Pokémon Center.”

 

“For what?” Dominic asked. “Do they pay him with pizza or something?”

 

“Come on, we’re burning time.” Reyes was behind as the group headed towards the Pokémon Center. Everything down to the dirt pathway beneath his feet was so achingly familiar… He kept thinking that Brendan was going to walk out of the PokéMart with a pair of triple-cheese nachos and extra-large Oran-Rawst slushies along with two crappy DVD movies just for them, but it never happened. Moreover, he thought he would see Azalea sitting under her favorite tree next to the Contest Hall, the one that bloomed purple and orange—her favorite colors—three times a season, and Reyes would sit with her and enjoy the smell and the sight of the children playing after a long day of school and—

 

He felt Dominic’s claws nick his face a little, then he caught himself and was dragging his fuzzy palms down Reyes’ cheeks, alerting him to the fact that he was crying. “You should have just stayed in the tunnel,” Dominic told him, his expression pitiful. “I knew this would be too painful for you.”

 

“Don’t worry about me,” he protested, pushing Dominic away. He looked slightly hurt as Reyes continued, “These memories will always be painful for me—that won’t change. But I believe I’m strong enough to continue despite that, and that’s what’s important.” Dominic smiled a little.

 

“Good boy.”

 

“I’m not a dog, you moron.”

 

“Good boy,” he repeated with a grin. He dodged Reyes’ blades when he swung at him and laughed. “Now who’s slow, huh?”

 

“Still you, you bastard.” Dominic received a fist on the back of his head, and despite the extreme density of his skull he cried out in pain before falling out on his face. The attacker sighed from behind him, a Haunter, before turning his attention to Reyes. He stared at Reyes for a long time before snickering. “You wanna know what it feels like to be possessed?”

 

“No thank you.” AB snickered again.

 

“AB, not everybody appreciates your…humor,” Jay said matter-of-factly, skittering in their direction. Asterisk was behind him, Sinclair riding on her shoulder, but she hurried to lift Dominic to his feet when she saw he was down.

 

“Uh, thanks,” he said awkwardly as she went on to brush dirt and stray leaves from his fur. “And AB, you can go ahead and suck my—”

 

“Excuse me,” Sinclair interrupted, slapping his cheek. “That’s not how you talk to family.”

 

“Family?” Reyes repeated, perplexed. Sinclair nodded.

 

“AB was a Gastly when I rescued him from one of the rebel-infested cities in southern Hoenn—it’s been a good few years since then. He still has the sense of humor of a hatchling, however.”

 

“What can I say?” AB cackled, waving his hands as he dissolved into formless purple mist. “Boo.”

 

“Anyhow, the last Pokémon we’re going to get is in Lavaridge. It’s a long way out from here, so we’ll only take a brief break here to eat before setting out.” He pulled out a bag of Berries from…what, hammer space? They sat in the shade of a brick house to eat, Dominic complaining as per usual about the lack of meat. AB, already being dead, didn’t need to eat, yet he still did a strange disappearing act with a couple of Cheri Berries.

 

“…I think I’ll take a walk,” Reyes said, standing. Sinclair just shrugged it off and Dominic was still busy throwing a fit. It didn’t matter anyway; he felt fine and he was confident that there wasn’t anything to set him off. He just wanted a stroll down memory lane…while he still had the chance.

 

Parts of the town were just as he remembered, like the neighborhood he used to live in with the odd abundance of Oddish and the elementary school/daycare just down the street, meaning a copious amount of children’s giggles and screeches as they played outside with the wild Pokémon. On the other hand, the ice cream shop Brendan used to always go to afterschool, Helena’s Rainbows, was gone and replaced by a video game store, and the old oak tree that the middle school kids used to climb near the park had been cut down into an uneven stump. He sat on it for a while to think, watching the wisps of his old life fade away to make room for new kids and new Pokémon and new memories.

 

He realized how much time he had wasted just sitting there and stood up, heading back towards the group, when a clawed paw clamped around his mouth and another around his forehead. He blindly flailed his leaf blades behind him but couldn’t make contact with his assailant as he was dragged backwards, away from the town and away from any possible rescuers. He stumbled a little as the polished grass and smooth walkway under his feet changed to rough and stony dirt, then he tried to find his footing as the dirt became looser beneath his feet. Finally, he collapsed all together as he was pulled to a burrow, slipping down the dark tunnel and landing flat on his back to stare at the small circle of light above.

 

“Reyes?” Two faces appeared to him from the darkness. He stared, blinking wildly until his eyes could adjust, and he sucked in a breath.

 

“Kim… Leroy… Don’t tell me you’re here to…” His chest constricted as if an Arbok was wrapped around it and his breath shortened.

 

“No, never!” they cried in unison, raising their paws. Reyes blinked at them, realizing that although he _had_ felt them, they were tied down with thick gloves.

 

“We really just want to talk!” Leroy continued. “But we thought that if we showed up, you’d run!”

 

“So you took me…” They exchanged an anxious look.

 

“Trust me, it was easier,” Kim said. “Reyes, we know about Azalea.”

 

“Azalea…” He swallowed, feeling the constriction grow even more painful. “And what are you going to do about that?” he asked hesitantly, sitting up.

 

“I told you we’re not gonna fight,” Leroy muttered. “We really just want to talk. Maybe it’s because we weren’t here to see your D-day or whatever, but we just don’t understand _why_ you would turn against the revolutionaries! And even though we’re probably totally in the dark about it all, we believed that Azalea was in the wrong for doing what she did—crying to Alakazam and taking his dirty power, in case you didn’t know. We knew it’d be dangerous for her— _she_ knew it’d be dangerous—but she still went out against you, and…” He lowered his eyes to the ground. “The price was high, but honestly we can’t blame you. We missed a lot, not being in Hoenn, but when we came back to Ever Grande a few weeks ago, everything had changed.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“There was a natural beauty there from the harmony and the innocence, but it’s gone now,” Kim explained. “Humans kind of shrink away when we walk by and Pokémon are all training and learning how to fight. We went to Alakazam, asked him what’s wrong, and he told us, ‘We’re preparing for a war.’ We thought it was on the rebels, but we were wrong. ‘On Reyes and the King.’”

 

“It was ridiculous!” Leroy continued. “A war for just two Pokémon, and _you_ of all people! And more than that—”

 

“—the bigger number of revolutionaries in the streets meant bigger numbers of fights with rebels, like a catalyst,” Kim said, waving her gloved claws for emphasis. “So Alakazam, while going after you two, was causing all of these extra fights, damage, and casualties—”

 

“—and we couldn’t stand for that—”

 

“—no way no how!” Reyes looked between them.

 

“This, I already know,” he said solemnly. “So why tell me?”

 

“We want to help you,” Kim and Leroy said.

 

“Help…me? I’m… We’re fighting against Alakazam directly. There’s a huge chance that we’ll die trying. Besides, why would you turn against him with all that he’s done for you?”

 

“We could ask you the same thing,” Leroy pointed out. “And if you left him because of your beliefs, then we trust your judgement.”

 

“You put a lot of trust in me for what I’ve done.” He dragged his claws down the hard-packed dirt of the “wall,” pulling chunks of it free and baring a few scraggly roots in the process. “I can’t believe it.”

 

“Why not?” Their reply startled him a little and he raised his head. “You’ve never done bad before, so why now?”

 

“…Hehe,” he chuckled bitterly. “I’m not the same guy as some months ago—far from it. I’m not even totally sure what I’m doing is right, to be honest. After Azalea… It’s hard not to doubt everything that I’ve been doing,” he admitted miserably. “I’d rather that you two get out of Hoenn again, go somewhere safer.”

 

“No! We’ll fight with you!” they protested, just as he expected. He sighed, dragging his hands down his face.

 

“You two are the last that’s left of the old team. If you get hurt or killed because of me, I won’t be able to recover. Please, just go with that in mind.” They looked at each other and shrugged.

 

“We’ll leave—” Kim started.

 

“—but we won’t take our eyes off of you, and believe it!” Leroy poked Reyes in the forehead. “Alright? You can’t make us leave, not ever. You’re our best friend, Reyes, and nothing will change that.”

 

“Not even Azalea?” He hated to kick a dead Rapidash, but he had to.

 

“It hurts,” Kim admitted.

 

“But not as much as it would hurt to see you go too,” Leroy added. “So don’t die no matter what!” Leroy ascended the burrow using the roots in the wall, climbing into the sunlight and putting his arm down. Kim grabbed his claws and took Reyes’ hand, then Leroy pulled both of them up. He had to cover his eyes for a moment to let them adjust, and when he opened them Kim and Leroy were gone. Dominic was waiting with his arms crossed as he went back into the town, Reyes’ backpack on his shoulders.

 

“What were you doing, wasting so much time? And why do you smell like Zangoose?”

 

“Nothing important, Dominic,” he said, feeling somewhat lighter. “At least, to you.”

 

——————

 

Going to Lavaridge meant travelling back through the Rusturf Tunnel and then through a small cavern outside of it leading to western Hoenn. They did have to camp the first night in a small meadow, but this time there were no excess conversations, maybe because they realized that their leisure time was coming up short. Dominic and Reyes sat back to back while the others slept, Dominic being his usual night Noctowl self and Reyes just suffering from insomnia, and the night stretched alongside their silence.

 

“A is for apples,” Dominic said all of a sudden.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“I can tell you can’t sleep, so why don’t we play the Alphabet Game? I have nothing better to do.”

 

“…B is for Briney.”

 

“C is for castles.”

 

“D is for danger.” He didn’t know why he said it but he couldn’t take it back.

 

“Then E is for expecting to live,” Dominic said in the same tone.

 

“F is for feeling like the world is against you.”

 

“G is for getting through despite that.”

 

“H is for having a friend to help you through.” Dominic snickered.

 

“I is for I really don’t think I count as any sort of _friend to help you through._ ”

 

“J is for just believe in yourself and what you do.”

 

“K is for killing—that’s all I’m good for, by the way.”

 

“L is for loving, which you’re also capable of.”

 

“M is for making too many arceusdamn mistakes.” It was followed by a loud swear.

 

“N is for never giving up.”

 

“O is for options.”

 

“P is for punching you in the face because what the hell kind of options are you talking about?”

 

“Q is for q…q… Q-maybe there are some, is what I’m saying.”

 

“S is for shut up because you obviously don’t know how to spell.”

 

“T is for think about it, alright? We can still turn back.”

 

“U is for you can’t be serious.”

 

“V is for very good job cheating the game there. I mean, it’s different to just be putting myself in danger—to be putting ourselves in danger, but there’s Sinclair and Jay and Asterisk and AB and some other sixth guy now too.”

 

“Y is for your concern for others is very touching, and I mean that, but as much as you don’t like it, they decided to help of their own accord, and you can’t change their minds. The one thing left for you to do is accept that some Pokémon do have the same beliefs as you and are willing to fight with their lives for them just as you are.” He reached back and tugged Dominic’s ear lightly enough to be endearing. “So it’s just something you’ve to learn to deal with, although you’re doing a poor job of that.”

 

“Aha,” he muttered bitterly, swatting Reyes’ hand away as his ears drooped listlessly. “Alas, I only have my eyes to look through, and my vision’s pretty narrow.”

 

“Z?”

 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Z is for…for goodnight…” It sounded like he snorted, then Reyes realized he had just fallen asleep. It was a pretty rare sight to see a Dark-type sleeping at night, but he figured that Dominic deserved it and went to find another place to sleep before AB put his hand in a mud pit again.

 

——————

 

He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not. He was in that odd state where his eyes worked but his mind was too tired to really process anything. He felt Sinclair shake his shoulders and tried to open his eyes but they wouldn’t go all the way, and it was hard to see already since he wasn’t made to see in the dark. There were tears streaming down Sinclair’s face and Reyes struggled to wake himself up.

 

“When it comes down to that last moment, anything goes to spare the world’s safety,” he whispered, his voice sounding far away. “That’s a lesson I learned a long time ago.”

 

“Sin…what’re ya…”

 

“Remember it.” Sinclair’s ears twitched uneasily as a moan sounded a few feet away. Reyes thought of the disjointed dreams he had been having, little snippets of Azalea and Brendan and the revolution. He remembered that usually, Dominic was the cause of them. “Okay? Remember it.”

 

“O…kay…” He closed his eyes and forgot all about it by morning.


	24. 3.4. Time's A Gift, I Don't Want It

The hot, dry air around Mt. Chimney was irritating Reyes’ lungs and he just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. Dominic, Sinclair, and Jay were in similarly bad moods with “the ash in the air ruining fur,” Dominic explained. Asterisk was unaffected, being a Fire-type and all, and maybe AB was unaffected as well, but he was currently propagating as a gas to startle nesting Pokémon from the wild grass.

 

“I’m going to take a bath in the hot springs,” Dominic told them.

 

“I’ll join you,” Jay grumbled from inside of his mane. While they skulked off to do that, Reyes looked at Sinclair.

 

“Myron is with an older lady I believe, who, ah, works at the hot springs,” he said, looking towards the Pokémon Center. There was, in fact, an elderly woman kneeling on the ground to play with a small Glaceon, who was freezing the ash in the air to make a shower of miniature ice crystals like diamond dust. He sniffed the air as they approached and met eyes with Sinclair, and as soon as it happened, he took off.

 

“Wait, Myron!” the lady called as he ran across the dry dirt. Asterisk was moving before any of them could, her powerful legs causing her to shoot forward with speed rivaling Dominic’s as she easily circled into Myron’s path and caught him with her talons. He inhaled a great breath before his skin exploded in a shower of ice crystals, and although Asterisk’s body heat immediately burned the majority of them a few landed in her eyes, causing her to drop him. He attempted to go past Sinclair as he intercepted him, electricity shooting off of him in waves as he rammed right into Myron. He recovered quickly despite the shock and used Sinclair’s head as a trampoline to launch over him and back onto the dirt where the electricity dissipated.

 

“Reyes! Stop him!” Sinclair said as Myron crossed paths with him. Reyes went with the only thing he could think of in such short notice, that being a huge grey mushroom, and as Myron collided into it Reyes covered his nose as a shield from the defensive spores it admitted. Myron, however, wasn’t as fast, and he stumbled for a few seconds before falling on his side, too tired to move.

 

“Does he hate you that much?”

 

“I guess so,” Sinclair huffed, shaking the dust from his fur before going to Myron’s side. He regarded Sinclair warily as he smiled. “Is that enough exercise for you, little boy?” Myron didn’t respond, making a large effort to overcome the Sleep Powder. “Yes, I guess it is.” Sinclair placed his paw on Myron’s forehead and gave him a small shock. His paws jerked and he went still for a moment before his eyes opened. He rolled onto his stomach before getting to his feet, looking at their little group in confusion. “We’re on a mission to launch an attack on Alakazam. It will not be pretty, nor is your life guaranteed. Will you come?” Myron’s response was to run past Sinclair and back to his owner.

 

“I think that’s a no.”

 

“He’s just stubborn. Children are like that.” He looked bitter for a moment as an unpleasant memory struck him. “He’ll come around though.”

 

“You know a lot of Pokémon,” Reyes noted. “How so?”

 

“Some of them I helped as survivors from the revolution,” he explained. “Others I know from my time in Professor Oak’s lab.”

 

“You were a lab Pokémon?” Sinclair nodded.

 

“Asterisk was too, obviously—that’s how I know her.” Asterisk was currently staring resolutely at the ground, apparently disgruntled at having “lost” to a child.

 

“Were you bred in a lab too?” Sinclair shook his head.

 

“I was a caught Pokémon. If I remember correctly, Oak wanted to replicate the success of a Trainer from Pallet Town with his own wild-caught Pikachu, but he seemed disappointed to only find me.” He shrugged helplessly. “I wanted to tell him that the feeling was mutual, but not all humans can understand us. He tried to train me for battle but I was more interested in spending time with the Trainer-bred Pokémon, and unbeknownst to him I studied his notes on them. It was interesting to see a scientific take on what I knew as basic nature, and from them I learned a lot that saved me a good few times after…”

 

“After…?” Sinclair looked off into the distance at some worn memory. “Was it bad?”

 

“Not so much bad as regretful,” he admitted. “There were choices I made at the time that I’m in good enough mind now to know that I shouldn’t have. But the past is in the past after all,” he sighed. “I left Oak and took to wandering before I finally chose Petalburg—it’s really quite a beautiful town and has a bustling community of wild Pokémon in houses designed by the people. I’d say that it’s second only to Ever Grande in people-Pokémon relations.” He laughed a little at the thought before looking back at Myron. “I don’t think it’ll be very hard to persuade that boy, however I doubt I can do it if I’ve already failed… Maybe Jay can do it—he still has the mind of a child.”

 

Reyes opened his mouth to respond when a loud howl caught their attention. Dominic was running towards them from the hot springs with Jay clinging to his ears for dear life as he tore across the dirt, a trail of electricity following him as his mane burst into a ball of fuzz. It was slightly amusing for a moment before Reyes recognized that frizzy appearance. “Dear Arceus,” he exhaled as Tex followed behind him. Alakazam had to know what they were doing and meant to stop them at any means, as he wouldn’t send the powerful-but-glitchy Tex otherwise. Also, if pathos was a lost cause on Azalea, it was even more so with Tex, who had artificially-programmed comprehension of things like “love” and “friendship.” Yet as Reyes looked into his blank eyes, he couldn’t see even that much. It wouldn’t have been hard to reprogram him in theory, but he was horrified to think of any revolutionaries that would reprogram a friend.

 

“Move move move!” Dominic howled again as three balls of red, blue, and gold appeared around Tex’s head.

 

“Cover your ears!” Jay shouted as he released Dominic’s ears, hovering in the air for a moment before the wind caught up to him. He opened his mouth and released a wave of pinkish vibrations in the air, but the auditory response was more like a war cry. It warped Tex’s Tri Attack beyond use, but the attack simply slipped off of him like water. Reyes grabbed Jay by the tail as he went.

 

“Disarming Voice won’t work, genius—he has no real emotions!”

 

“Well damn, you could’ve told me that!” he retorted angrily, paws flailing.

 

“And we can’t fight him here anyway or risk hurting the inhabitants,” he snapped. “We have to get to Mt. Chimney—much less life to endanger.” They ran across the dry dirt of the town as Tex followed behind, not nearly fast enough to catch up but surely planning something. “Dominic, how did it find us?”

 

“We weren’t exactly hidden!” He closed his eyes against the rising dust as he ran on all fours. Asterisk’s eyes widened slightly as she spun on her spot, skidding to a stop with her talons digging deep gouges in the earth, then she ran back towards Tex. Tex prepared another Tri Attack, but before it could launch it Asterisk came to another stop, her powerful legs kicking wildly at the ground to throw a virtual sandstorm in its face, also obscuring the rest of Lavaridge from their view. They ran out until the scraggly weeds poking out of the hard dirt swelled into thick wild grass and small grazers scattered at the sounds of their footsteps.

 

“This is far enough!” Dominic came to a stop so suddenly that his bad leg collided with a sharp rock jutting out of the ground. His eyes popped wide open and filled with tears, yet he refused to cry out in pain. Sinclair and Jay paired up as Tex returned much faster than before, its body zapping like a T.V. screen with bad signal as it began glitching again.

 

“D-DON’T TRY TO _beep_ R-RUN, R-REYES,” it warned. “O-OR ANY OF YOUUUUU—” Its voice crackled before fading into a wild computerized screech, causing all of them to cover their ears as it surrounded its body with crackling electricity. Sinclair sniffed the air before leaping ahead of them and releasing a wild Thunderbolt concurrently with Tex. The electricity collided equidistant with the both of them before dissipating into the air. “COMMAND EXECUTE:CONVERSION 2.” Tex’s body convulsed for a couple of seconds before going still, and very slowly its pink skin colored brown.

 

Sinclair smirked. “Smart.”

 

“Not smart enough for me,” Dominic growled, bracing himself before leaping onto Tex and knocking it to the ground, jaws firmly clamped on its midsection. It was an odd sight as Tex had no real body, and so it simply dissolved around Dominic’s teeth as it easily floated back into the air, changing to a dark grey shade. Dominic clenched his jaw before opening wide and releasing a stream of fire, which Tex deflected with a bolt of electricity—“COMMAND EXECUTE:THUNDERBOLT”—before creating a jagged beam of pink, purple, and gold energy that hit Dominic head on—“COMMAND EXECUTE:SIGNAL BEAM.” At first, it didn’t seem to have an effect, then Dominic lurched backwards so fast that he tripped over his bad leg, flopping onto his back. There wasn’t much of a reprieve as Tex turned its attention back on them, ice and snow swirling around its body before it released an Ice Beam in their direction. Asterisk threw her arms out and released a wave of heat that melted it on contact, then she tensed her legs before lighting them aflame and sending a kick at Tex. Tex took the hit head-on and hit the ground, going completely still.

 

“Is it done with?” Jay asked. Reyes shrugged a shoulder, his eyes focused on Tex’s prone body. Surely that wasn’t all for a Pokémon designed to combat any force in battle? Reyes lost his focus for a moment as Dominic let out a growl, rolling around fervently in the grass with his claws clenching his head as if it would split open. He growled again as he got to his knees, head down and shaking, then he looked right at them. He opened his mouth and all of them had to jump out of the way of his impending Flamethrower.

 

“If anybody can turn a ten percent chance into one hundred, it’s Dominic for sure,” Sinclair lamented as he rushed at them. He looked just like the wild Pokémon from the revolution, feral and uncontrollable and deadly, and that caused Reyes to freeze in his tracks. Instead of barreling into Reyes, however, Dominic was pushed completely out of the way as Asterisk rammed into him, sending him rolling through the grass before he hit a wall of red rock at the base of Mt. Chimney. He was up again almost immediately, shaking his head and going into a stalk. He started towards them at first, then he abruptly changed paths and started circling some invisible entity, growling and snapping at his hallucination. Well, it’ll keep him distracted at least, Reyes thought dryly, turning his attention back to Tex.

 

“COMMAND EXECUTE:TRICK _ding_ ROOM,” Tex screeched, back in the air as it formed a gently-twirling cube of purple energy. It tossed the cube forward and it instantaneously shot up to consume a total of one mile around them. Reyes took a step forward and found that gravity, instead of just pushing down, was also pushing him left and right and even diagonally, making it much harder to move. Asterisk bounced from talon to talon, seemingly adjusting, while Sinclair and Jay were forced to the ground with the increased pressure. Sinclair’s electricity was going out of control as well and Reyes had to wonder if it was related. “COMMAND EXECUTE:ICE BEAM.” Reyes’ instinct was to jump back, however the new gravity slowed his dodge considerably until the Ice Beam pierced him in his stomach. He doubled over, feeling the gross sensation of his inner organs freezing over, and opened his seed pods up to get as much heat as possible. He was getting more ash than sun however, causing his skin to turn grey.

 

“C’mon— _cough_ —Tex,” Reyes said hoarsely, “have a heart.”

 

“I WAS NOT 2952 PROGRAMMED WITH A HEART,” it elucidated. “ONLY COMPREHENSION OF IT.”

 

“Then comprehend that I can’t fight you—I can’t fight any of my friends.”

 

“THEN YOU W-WILL BE KILLED,” it said plainly. “COMMAND EXECUTE:PSY—” Tex was cut off as a Shadow Ball came from behind it and knocked it into the ground. Reyes raised his eyes and saw Dominic squirming on the ground as he rapidly created them and fired in all directions, his claws digging into his nearly-healed wounds. Jay narrowly dodged one as it crashed into the dirt ahead of him and, exasperated, released a high-voltage blast of electricity that filled the air. Reyes rooted himself so that the electricity passed by him, however it literally went through Tex and hit Dominic, causing him to flip onto his stomach. Tex’s body started buzzing as jagged rows of codes filled its eyes. It made to move forward, and it did so with such speed that Reyes actually couldn’t see it until it stopped inches from his face, and even then only because something was literally holding it back. Reyes saw that some of Jay’s electricity clung to it by the tail and stretched out to Dominic’s prone form. Reyes looked back at Jay angrily and he shrugged.

 

“I needed something immobile.”

 

“Yes, but did you consider that maybe Tex can—” With another buzz, Tex emitted a strong magnetic field that, instead of harming them, lifted their feet a few inches off of the ground, nullifying gravity in their space. Dominic’s body ended up in the air as well, effectively un-grounding Tex. “—make him mobile?”

 

“COMMAND EXECUTE:MAGNET RISE.”

 

“I didn’t think that far ahead, no,” he said dryly. On the other hand, the Trick Room slowly began fading, the excess gravity loosening its grip on their bodies.

 

“COMMAND EXECUTE:AERIAL 23Q\\\—ACE.” Tex vanished before reappearing about a dozen feet higher, then it disappeared again. Reyes could just barely track Dominic’s body swinging behind it as it ran into Asterisk with enough force to send her sprawling on her back. She braced her talons in the dirt before kicking out with flaming feet, catching Tex in its center and causing part of its body to break away. Dominic’s body slammed to the ground as gravity finally caught up to them, his blank eyes going wide and looking in all directions.

 

“Dominic, pull it down!” Sinclair told him, gesturing to the electricity holding them together. He grinned goofily in response.

 

“COMMAND EXECUTE:hyper BEAM.” Tex charged a ball of white energy above its head. Asterisk lit her fists and braced herself before leaping at it, but her body simply passed through its as it became little more than strings of data codes. Sinclair and Jay tried as well, however their electricity only slightly muddled Tex’s form. Sinclair looked back at Reyes.

 

“You have to fight too.”

 

“I’m sorry, I…I can’t.”

 

“You know, you’re too nice a guy for your own good.” The ball of energy vanished. Reyes grew a set of vines as thick as possible around them, cocooning them just as Tex fired. Although it was completely dark in their little bubble the light from its Hyper Beam shone brightly through the cracks, nearly blinding them, and slowly the vines began to wither against the energy. The attack did end up hitting them, and although it wasn’t on as great a scale and didn’t do nearly as much damage as it would have, Tex had been pushing its programming for every bit of power it could get. The smaller ones, Sinclair and Jay, were sent rolling into the grass before going still, and Asterisk managed to stand up while favoring her right leg. Reyes had lost both of his arms trying to protect his face, and although the sun was bright he was so low on energy that it would take a long time to regrow them. Too long.

 

“COMMAND EXECUTE:TRI ATTACK.” Tex’s body was completely transparent and its color palette switched to codes at times as it fought to stay corporeal. Reyes’ heart felt like it was being constricted; first he had to watch Azalea kill herself over him, then Tex? It was getting to be too much. He grasped his head, feeling his mind about to shut down again, and forced himself to stay awake. He knew that the time he spent at Sinclair’s was wasted, that he should’ve known the consequences of his actions and accepted them long ago, but he was only human—or rather, only Pokémon.

 

“NO!” Reyes’ vines reacted before he could, forcing their way from the ruined ground to wrap around whatever remained of Tex’s body. Instead of passing through however, they bound it like ropes and pulled it to the dirt, more and more coming out until it was completely covered. Reyes didn’t have time to worry about it, and he didn’t want to either. He was just glad that things were over and done with. “…Dominic. Are you alright, Dominic?”

 

“Ugugu…” He rolled to his feet, wiping his eyes before opening them. His pupils were hugely dilated but it was a step up from before. “Yeah, in the loosest sense.” Reyes sighed before going over to Sinclair and Jay. Asterisk was already there, but as soon as she saw him coming she went over to Dominic, who let out a loud wail of protest. Sinclair and Jay were fine, just unconscious, yet Reyes didn’t want to shake them for fear of getting himself electrocuted. He sat down to rest his mind for a moment, staring at the grass Tex had not so elegantly sheared from the ground and the side of Mt. Chimney. The indigenous wild Pokémon were crawling hesitantly from their burrows to see the aftermath. As he watched them, however, he started getting a cold feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. It didn’t make sense though; Tex was down and surely no other revolutionary was in the area, otherwise they would’ve been dead already. The feeling persisted as he stared at the wild Pokémon trying to make sense of their burned homes. A horrible realization hit him at that moment and he went completely still.

 

 _Alakazam wouldn’t…_ Yet even as he thought it, he knew that the same Pokémon that would willingly endanger hundreds of lives over Reyes’ _would,_ for certain.

 

A Spoink sniffing around a shriveled Berry bush suddenly gave a loud squeal before falling silent, staring at Reyes with wide and blank eyes. The Numel next to him followed suit, then the Skarmory to his right turned towards them, then Pokémon started crawling from the higher ledges of the mountain with the same vacant expression. Reyes got to his feet, but even he knew it was a pointless gesture. They were now outnumbered ten to one.

 

“Wha’s going on?” Dominic asked behind him.

 

“Alakazam,” he said through gritted teeth. “As it seems, he’s through playing with us.”

 

“Wha’?”

 

“He’s been playing Dominic, playing with my feelings or others’ lives or I don’t effing know, but he’s been messing around and not showing the full extent of his power. There’s a reason why he’s one of the most powerful Pokémon on Earth: nobody that has stood up to him has ever lived as long as we have. Apparently he was too shocked to properly retaliate for a long while.” But that wasn’t true and he knew it. Alakazam was also on top because he was a certified genius, and so if he left them alone for as long as he did, he did it strategically. “…We have to make it.”

 

“I hate to fight a losing battle, but I’d hate to lie down even more.” They were getting stared down on by at least five dozen Pokémon in the area ranging from little Zigzagoon to massive Camerupt with boiling lava running down their humps to bulky Magmortar with cannons charging.

 

“We can’t fight them,” Asterisk said, the only one to admit the truth. She wasn’t in a battle stance for once, her body rigid and straight. “We’ll die.”

 

“Against Alakazam, I won’t die lying on my back.” Dominic attempted a Flamethrower but it shot wide of Mt. Chimney, nearly burning away Reyes’ legs.

 

“Dominic you’re still not in enough of your right mind to _aim,_ let alone fight back.”

 

“Neither are you,” he retorted. “You can’t aim with no arms.”

 

“We’re out of the question, Sinclair and Jay are out of this world… What _can_ we do?”

 

“Like I said, we go down fighting!” Reyes looked back at Dominic before at the Pokémon again and he gasped. They weren’t attacking yet—but why? Alakazam couldn’t have had a change of heart. He was biding his time yet again, but for what?

 

“—I smell a Glaceon,” Dominic said suddenly. Reyes turned around and saw Myron running up to them.

 

“Thank Arceus that you came. Maybe you can help us with a distraction so we can escape.” Myron nodded before looking at the wall of Pokémon. Reyes turned to them and felt a chill skitter down his back as the air cooled one small degree. He looked down and saw sheer ice covering the hard-packed dirt below them, however it stopped just short of the base of Mt. Chimney. He looked to Myron to question it when the little one suddenly gave a macabre smile.

 

 _Surprise,_ said Alakazam’s voice in his head as the ice consumed his entire body.


	25. 3.5. Plant The Seeds

_“Sinclair, Sinclair! Let’s play catch, c’mon let’s play catch!” Dominic was bouncing from side to side next to Sinclair’s couch as he was flipping channels on T.V. He finally let it sit on some cartoon about a Machamp versus an Infernape for AB and turned to Dominic._

_“Did you eat sugar from the jar or something?”_

_“Maybe!” Sinclair sighed, sliding to the ground._

_“How about we take a nap instead? …A long one,” he added as Dominic started gnawing on the armrest. He spat out a wad of stuffing, wagging his tail excitedly._

_“Nooo! Play time!” He dropped into a crouch and growled playfully. AB and his Poochyena friend, who were used to sleeping during the day, groaned in complaint._

_“Alright, let’s go outside, if for nothing else than the sanity of everyone in the house.” Sinclair didn’t even have to look behind him as he went out onto the dirt pathway leading through Petalburg. In the last few weeks Dominic had become very much like a house pet, but it made sense considering that even though he was a Zoroark, three and a half feet tall standing erect, he was just ten years old. He was a child, and children loved two things: being loved and playing. Dominic was pretty sixty-forty. He bounced around a little less energetically as they came into direct sunlight. “Let’s go for a walk.”_

_“How about a run? A run?”_

_“A walk.” He couldn’t collar Dominic to make sure that he didn’t get distracted by anything, but he could do him one better: “If you’ll walk with me for fifteen minutes, I’ll make you Buneary stew tonight.”_

_“Really!?” He was energized again, eyes wide. “Let’s go already!”_

_Sinclair walked down the coastline with him, as Dominic didn’t get many opportunities to go to the ocean. There were a few children out playing in the shallow end and the Pokémon nesting there; Dominic went up to join them and, to his surprise, they petted him and scratched his back and pulled his tail just like the others, as if he wasn’t a killer. He had never thought of himself as somebody that could make kids happy, but there it was: they were giggling and laughing and one even tried to ride him even though he was too tall._

_“Dominic, come on,” Sinclair called. The youngest boy there holding a melting ice cream cone pointed at him._

_“A no’ched-ear Pichu! You guys, look! Big brother, check it out!” he cried, blowing a snot bubble as he spoke. His older brother looked up and brought the rest of his friends over, where they proceeded to grab Sinclair and tug his ears and tail and pinch his cheeks. Sinclair did look amused for the better part of five seconds and even shot them a cute wide-eyed expression right before his electricity went out of control again. The kids were majorly unharmed but were crying as they went back home._

_They went through the forest next, watching the Bug-types scatter at the sight of them. At one point however, a flock of Butterfree appeared, and Dominic almost broke his neck rearing back to watch them pass. He had to run to catch up with Sinclair as they reached a smaller cove within the woods where Illumise and Volbeat nested. The trees were too dense to let in very much light, and so the Pokémon created their own, colors of the rainbow dotting the blackness around them as they floated around Dominic and Sinclair. Dominic almost snapped his teeth at one before Sinclair stopped him. The offended Illumise kicked him between the eyes before flying away._

_“One more minute,” Sinclair told him as they walked up a steep incline. Dominic let his tongue hang out, wondering what else they could see. He hadn’t seen that much nature since the trip to Petalburg, which he really didn’t want to touch upon as they were worse times, and he didn’t know life could be so beautiful._

_“Thank you.”_

_“For what?” he replied with a small smile._

_“You know what—don’t be a jerk and make me say it again. You know I’m bad with gratitude.”_

_“You’re bad with a lot of things,” he amended._

_“Okay, yeah, but gratitude specifically. I just wanna go home and nap.”_

_“Although I would enjoy the few hours’ worth of silence, are you sure you don’t want to see what’s out there?” He stopped and pointed at a wall of thick palm leaves blocking a great source of light. He had to admit, he was curious._

_“For one second.”_

_“Sure, one second,” he repeated with a grin as he went and slipped through one of the cracks in the leaves. Dominic pushed them away with his claws, blinking to let his eyes adjust, and when he could finally see, he lost all his breath. Before them, past the little grassy knoll they were standing on, was the rest of Petalburg Woods, greener than Dominic could have imagined, and beyond that was all of Hoenn, a glorious mix of reds and browns and greys and oranges that made his eyes cry with joy. He didn’t know what to say or even if he should’ve said anything, just sat there silently with tears streaming down his face and wondering how the world could be so damaged and so freaking beautiful at the same time._

_“One second?” Sinclair asked, startling him a little. He gave a low huff as he laid down on the soft grass, enjoying the gentle breeze whistling past his ears, trying to soak up as much of the world as possible._

_“Just one…”_

-—————

 

Dominic felt so groggy and his head full of stuffing that he could barely open his eyes. He pushed his claws forward along the hard ground, trying to get a decent grip, but the smooth material didn’t work with his fur—marble, it felt like. He forced his body to move even as it felt like he had to sit through a day’s worth of Sinclair’s electricity, his muscles rigid like stone as he forced his knees to bend. He winced as he cracked his eyes open, seeing a bright, bright light everywhere around him, and shook his head gently to focus his mind.

 

“Y-You’re awake…” He vaguely recognized the voice but couldn’t think past the serious sunburn he was getting.

 

“Seems so.” He wanted to laugh in his usual manic way but his throat felt full of sawdust. He flopped onto his stomach pitifully as his limbs gave out, releasing his breath in a huff. “Is that… That’s against your plans or something?”

 

“No. I mean, uh…” There was a crunching sound like hard Berries, making Dominic wince harder.

 

“What now? Aren’t I supposed to be dead?” He tried to think back to what happened before he woke up but damn it, that light was scattering his brain. The sun couldn’t possibly be that strong, so obviously someone was doing it on purpose. The other guy? He couldn’t be sure until he could open his eyes, and he couldn’t do it in those conditions unless he wanted to be permanently blinded.

 

“Not…yet,” he said hesitantly.

 

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” He wanted to believe that he was making progress with standing up, but honestly he couldn’t tell. The crunching sound came back again.

 

“Uh…erm…” The other guy muttered to himself for a little while, apparently debating it. Meanwhile Dominic swiveled his ears as far as they could go, tapping his claws against the hard ground to get the resulting soundwaves. He was no architect but the room sounded pretty small and cubical, and as far as he could tell they were alone inside. “You’re… Alakazam took you guys back to Ever Grande. You’re in the revolutionaries’ city now.” Well, that sucked.

 

“Right…Alaka…” He trailed off, already exhausted from that much speaking as he let his head hit the ground. Alakazam caught them at Lavaridge with a huge unprecedented psychic attack. It made Dominic wonder why he ever bided his time in the first place if he could’ve done that any time—or maybe it was a distance thing? Even though he couldn’t really picture Alakazam having any sort of power limitation, if he was anything like Blaziken. “Hah…” he panted. “Where…hah…are my…hoo…friends?”

 

“They’re separated…for now.” He sounded a lot more nervous and that crunching sound was coming more often. “And alive. Alakazam wants to make some kind of…example out of you guys, I think.”

 

“He can…bite me…” He started sweating on top of everything else, which made his fur feel unimaginably gross. “Jeez… Turn down the heat… ‘m dying…” And to his surprise the temperature did drop. It wasn’t a huge amount but it was enough to get him moving easier, getting his first deep breath in a long time, and he could finally open his eyes. His vision was a little blurry from the sweat running into his eyes but he made out his captor and smirked. Louis was cracking several thick and indistinguishable Berries in all four hands, apparently a nervous habit as he looked away from Dominic. The flare was coming from his tail, which was burning very brightly and hotly, and from his red and sweating face (can Fire-types even sweat?) it was affecting him too. “Heya. Been a while.”

 

“Erm,” he muttered, obviously uncomfortable.

 

“Not so talky anymore? What, are you nervous having me around? Because I’m a killer, or because I can be good too?” he continued, bracing his claws on the smooth marble before pushing himself up on his knees and elbows. “C’mon, talk to me.” Louis refused to respond. “I SAID TALK!” he snapped, causing Louis to jump and his flame to roar back to life. He laughed even as it hurt and smoke burst from his mouth. “You brat!”

 

“I, ah,” he started before shutting his mouth and sitting down, crushing the last of the Berries before tossing them into a corner. Dominic noticed that it was a rather large pile of Berries and their shells, which looked kind of like elliptical tree bark. Louis wound his fingers together tensely as his tail swayed from side to side, burning equal holes in both of Dominic’s corneas. “I didn’t really wanna do this…” he admitted. “You’re a criminal, yeah, but the way Alakazam was talking about you guys…he sounded like one too. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

 

“You could think that maybe he’s one crazy bastard,” Dominic told him. “You know Reyes is a good guy, don’t you? Why would he ever in a million years turn against all of his friends at the drop of a coin? Alakazam was _wrong,_ as hard as that is to hear. He blamed me for something I didn’t do and sent his whole damn force against me for that? Even if I did do _whatever_ , it’s not worth _hundreds of Pokémon._ And because of those hundreds of Pokémon, the revolution’s flaring up all over Hoenn!” He had to stop to cough but it didn’t matter; Louis was frozen, eyes wide and tail dimming. “The ends don’t justify the means, Louis! Think about it.”

 

“I…you’re trying to trick me…” he whispered, his tail just a match light. It gave Dominic the strength to get to his knees, his body rocking back and forth.

 

“You’re tricking yourself. I’m not trying to get out of here—hell, I deserve everything that’s coming to me. But I’d rather that Alakazam gets his own too, because that bastard deserves it more than I do.”

 

“Al…” Louis fell silent and turned, facing the only exit from the room. Dominic sat back on his heels with a sigh, exhausted. His skin still prickled from the heat and he’d probably be in a hell of a lot of pain later. “…Alakazam told us that Reyes killed Azalea. We couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. I’d never seen two Pokémon closer than them. It didn’t make any sense. You had to have tricked him.”

 

“Arceus, is this really what people think of me…?” he thought aloud, tipping his head back with a wry smile. “You know, I’m actually capable of good. I isolated myself for years so that I wouldn’t have to kill anybody—that’s about as good as a guy can get. So as you can see, I still have a sense of moral right versus wrong. Standing up against a psychotic dictator? Right. Turning a guy’s B.F.F./maternal figure against him? Totally wrong.” He flexed his claws to Louis, who flinched in response. “Don’t ever accuse me of wanting to hurt Reyes like that again. He’s a very good guy and he risked it all for me, and so I’d never betray him like that. Do that again and I really may hurt you, even in this condition.” He sighed and smiled a little, showing the teeth that he had lost to Salamence and Sharpedo. “Well, that’s pathetic. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve eaten meat? It’s a damn shame. It’s hard to remember what it tastes like.”

 

“I…ah… I eat Berries, so I wouldn’t know,” he mumbled, his tail curling around himself protectively. His flame was still pretty big but Dominic regained enough energy for it to be less of a problem. He pushed off from the ground with his claws, swaying before he steadied on his feet. Louis’ head snapped towards him worriedly. “You can’t go, or else Alakazam will be mad.”

 

“He’s already pissed at me—what’s it matter at this point?” He checked to make sure that nothing was too damaged. Of course, his bad leg was still going to be a problem, so he had to make sure to watch that.

 

“Okay, but—” He cut himself off, standing and putting his arms out. “You can’t!”

 

“Watch me,” he challenged. “I won’t kill you, but I can just put you to sleep for now. That’s way too easy for me.” He took two steps forward before Louis’ tail flared again, pushing him back a little with the heat. He pressed forward again as soon as it passed, his claws out. Louis gasped before jumping towards the wall. He bounced off from there and pushed from the ceiling with his hands to drop into a spin, the flame on his tail blending with his whole body to cover him in fire. Dominic stumbled out of the way, his muscles still rigid, and Louis hit the ground, spun around, and came back. Dominic reached out as Louis collided with him, burning through his fur and into the soft skin below, and grabbed his tail, throwing him above his head before slamming him down into the ground. Louis recovered quickly and lashed out with his feet, kicking Dominic in his sore abdomen, and while he was stunned Louis delivered a flaming punch to his face.

 

“Ouch!” Dominic hissed, grabbing his cheek as it swelled, feeling a little blood dribble from the corner of his mouth. It was a good thing he didn’t have much more teeth to lose. Louis stumbled a little, his flame shrinking and cooling down. “You’re not in much of a fighting condition are you?”

 

Louis puffed his cheeks out, shaking his head defiantly as he took out a Tamato Berry from…hammer space? He ate it in two bites with his cheeks turning bright red from the spiciness. He swallowed and his flame flared up, surrounding him with little tongues of fire that forced Dominic to the other side of the small room. He had to fight to breathe now, the air was so hot. Coughing, he took a step forward, then another, ready to rip Louis apart, but his muscles finally seized up from the temperature and he hit the floor, curling into a tight ball.

 

“I win,” Louis said, sitting down in front of the door again. Dominic clamped his mouth shut as to not scorch his lungs any further.

 

——————

 

_It was like he was watching a movie. He woke up and stood up from the floor, except he wasn’t controlling his body. He crept through Sinclair’s house as the other Pokémon slept, going past the Delcatty, the Whismur, the Piplup, AB, and Jay, who had come for a “two-second visit.” Sinclair had fallen asleep against the wall, looking more cute and innocent than usual. Usually he wasn’t so defenseless, but he had done a lot that day. The King stood over him with his claws outstretched._

_NONONONONO DON’T KILL HIM_

_He gritted his teeth as he grasped his head with his other hand, backing away to reduce the noise. Dominic was screaming and shrieking, making his skull feel as if it would burst from the agony, the closer he moved to Sinclair, almost like he was some sort of radar. The King growled in response. Sinclair was nothing but a distraction, making them weaker, making them_ soft _—_

_But knowing kindness, being kind wasn’t a weakness and didn’t make others weak—_

_But the King wouldn’t hear a word of it, didn’t want to open his mind to the possibility. Dominic realized that that wasn’t going to be the last time he would endanger Sinclair and backed away slowly, eyes wide. His body was his again but it was bittersweet feeling._

-—————

 

Dominic rested for maybe two-hour intervals for the remainder of the day, and each time he woke up he tried breaking past Louis and failed again and again. Honestly, Dominic didn’t think that the guy could fight, but he had a decent amount of stamina and held his ground well.

 

Twelve hours passed and he wondered where the hell Alakazam was. If Alakazam wanted him dead, he would’ve been beyond dead at that point, but Louis said he “wanted to make an example”? The first thing Dominic thought of was a public execution, but then Alakazam wouldn’t have needed to hold him—that was something that could’ve been done on the spot. He fell silent instead of attacking Louis right off the bat, rapping his claws against the burn-scarred ground as he wondered. Alakazam had wanted to kill him months ago, but he had also gone quite during that time—maybe things had changed? He probably just wanted to keep Dominic as a pet or something.

 

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” Louis asked warily, his tail swishing from side to side. “You’re not gonna fight me?” His fur was scuffed and there were dark bruises on his side and around his eye.

 

“You’re not at one hundred percent, so why so eager?” he muttered in response. He let his ears droop, shading his eyes from Louis’ view as he frowned. “I’m tired of fighting already… I just want to get out and find my friends.”

 

“Well you can’t do that either.”

 

“I know that already.” He sighed and rolled onto his side. “Can you answer me this? Are the others in the same situation as me?”

 

“…Yes,” he answered after thinking, probably wondering if the information was worth telling. “Alakazam wanted to make sure that none of you could get out of here.”

 

“And where is here?”

 

“Um, I don’t know if I should…” Dominic didn’t even have the strength to threaten him into it.

 

“Look, I’m not getting out of here anytime soon.” He tried to shrug but didn’t have the strength. “Just talk to me, please. It’ll keep me from going crazy.” Well, crazi _er_.

 

“We’re, uh, in the Pokémon League,” he mumbled. “These are some side rooms…” That was all Dominic got from him, but that was all he wanted to hear.

 

“Pokémon League…” He went there just once when he was five with Steven, when he had to battle that guy Brendan. Dominic didn’t remember much of the place except that it was very state-of-the-art. He suddenly had a gruesome idea what Alakazam wanted to do with them and hoped that he was just blowing things out of proportion. “So hey, do I get to eat too or does Alakazam want me to starve here?” he asked, his stomach preceding his words.

 

“I got, uh, some Berries left,” Louis said, looking towards the bark-covered Berries in the corner. Dominic sighed.

 

“I’m actually in the mood for baked monkey right now, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers.” He snorted a laugh as Louis jumped. “You’re pretty nervous considering that you’ve been kicking me all around this room. Do I _really_ scare you that much, Louis?”

 

“It’s… It’s not as much you as the stories,” he explained. “I’ve heard about some people being good enough to catch you and then getting a gruesome end… I told Alakazam I didn’t want to do this but he made me anyway, I don’t know why. There are a lot of Pokémon stronger than me.”

 

“Alakazam is a sly bastard and even I know that much,” Dominic muttered, pushing himself up to sit back on his haunches. “If he put you in here, he did it for a good damn reason. Maybe it’s because I can’t talk you into anything?” He hesitated before grinning. “Or maybe it’s because I _can._ Maybe he’s just testing me to see how far I’ll go. Probably wants to make me out as even bigger a criminal to nullify that sympathy Reyes got me. With this guy, I just have to expect the worst and then expect even worse than that.” Louis had gone silent as soon as Dominic had mentioned the lines he would cross. His grin turned into a smirk as he stood up, his stance unsteady and making him look unhinged. “Yes, there are a lot of bridges that the King would heedlessly cross,” he continued in a low hiss. Louis’ tail surged before shrinking, his eyes so wide they looked like they would fall out. Dominic gave a short laugh before hitting the ground hard, his claws turned inwards. “Too bad he’s dead.”

 

——————

 

_Dreams. The disjointed medicine-induced fever dreams Dominic hated. He had been getting them ever since he started their impromptu stay at Sinclair’s house. He didn’t know if they were caused by the stress, the pain, the medicine itself, or all three, but they blurred in his mind until he couldn’t take it._

_There was a ghost one time, a blobby dark figure in even darker darkness sort of shaped like a Zoroark but continuously shifting and changing. Dominic had the impression that he should’ve been moving away from it but he followed instead, even as the distance between them grew and grew with each step. He tried to pick up the pace but his leg and the anesthesia and the pain and he just couldn’t focus enough to run._

_‘You’re chasing a ghost.’ It was just a whisper in the blank space around them, so faint Dominic could barely hear._

_“Yeah, I—huu—I see that,” he huffed, clenching his chest as his heart pounded within his ribcage. “S-Slow down and it won’t—hah—be a chase ‘nymore.”_

_‘This is pointless… Just let me go.”_

_“I should—ugh—but I won’t.” The figure became hazier and started looking vaguely like a Sceptile._

_‘You don’t need me.’_

_“Maybe I don’t…” He slowed to a stop. “But that won’t stop me from running anyway.”_

_It looked like an Alakazam now. ‘Wasting your energy and time. There are more important things out there,_ real _things.’_

_“This feels real enough for me. This conversation is real enough.”_

_‘Dominic,’ it admonished._

_“I’m not a child. I’m perfectly aware of what I do and the consequences thereof,” he retorted. “I’ll chase after the sun if I want and damn anyone that tries to stop me.” It sighed and started looking like a Zoroark again._

_‘That’s what I was afraid of.’ It moved slowly like a real ghost before it managed to fully turn around, facing Dominic. Blue eyes took shape in its face._

_“Who are you?” he asked warily. It examined its blurry claws with disappointment._

_“Half of a soul, I guess.” Its voice became a little clearer and more like Dominic’s. He reached out tentatively but his claws just passed through it. “You can’t touch me… I’m just barely corporeal now, in your dreams.”_

_“Right, this is a dream… Then aren’t you fake?”_

_“An illusion maybe,” he amended._

_“Did I…make you?” It hesitated before shaking its head. It looked kind of like a Pichu but still with those blue eyes._

_“Partly, but I’ve always existed.”_

_“Are you bad?” Dominic whispered. It whispered a hoarse laugh._

_“Worse than that.” It said that, but Dominic felt no ill will coming from it._

_“I don’t think you’re bad. I think you’re…” He trailed off, unsure of what he could say to something that barely existed and only even in his dream. It laughed again, more distinctly, as it started to take a more solid shape._

_“I’m what, Dominic?” He blinked up at the other face. His face. The King’s face. “I’m darkness and that’s all I am and that’s all I can be, so stop freaking chasing me. I think you know by now how poisonous I am.” He turned and ran, really ran, but this time Dominic could keep pace._

_“You helped Reyes, so you’re not all bad!”_

_“Just shut up and leave me behind, Dominic!”_

_“That’s not what you want to happen, is it?” Dominic skidded to a stop and the King did too. “We shared a mind for a while back there. I know what you want, King. You want to be solid, corporeal, like me, but you’re just darkness. Remember, all that us Dark-types need is someone to lead them into the light.” The King went still, then he laughed bitterly._

_“All the light will do is burn me, Dom. It’s too late for me—that’s why you should give up.”_

_“I already gave up on myself long time ago,” he argued. “Not again.”_

_“I’m not you.”_

_“I am you.” The King started looking indistinct and blurry again and Dominic knew that he was running out of time. “And we’ve been arguing and going at it our whole lives but who’s to say we can’t just be Rex now?”_

_“My Rex days are over,” he whispered, bowing his head. “It’s just you now, Dominic. But you’ll be fine—that much I know.”_

——————

 

Dominic woke up again to a faint rumbling coming from outside of the room. Louis noticed it too, staring at the door with something like worry. Suddenly Louis doubled over, hands on his head and his face twisted in pain. Dominic didn’t understand until he felt it too: the gross sensation of an unwanted presence in his brain. He flopped on his back, eyes squeezed shut, and heard the noise increase into a crowd of Pokémon, although he wasn’t hearing it through his own ears—it was more like he was hearing through someone else’s ears. Random images flashed behind his eyelids, bursts of color and sound and feeling that he could barely focus on, then they slowed down until he could understand.

 

_Reyes was fighting a losing battle. There were hundreds of Pokémon crammed into the Champion’s room all doped-up a la psychic style and they were all looking to tear him leaf from leaf. He was in no good condition, his blades ripped away and his pods gone and big chunks of his skin gone altogether so that his every step was marked by chlorophyll. He looked like he had been fighting for a long time… Twelve hours? It was impossible by any stretch of the imagination…unless the Pokémon were playing with him._

_“Ah. You’re still as stubborn as ever, that hasn’t changed.” Dominic felt his throat move but it wasn’t his voice nor was he speaking. He was feeling it vicariously again, and he hated to think that that freak was hijacking his body like that. “It would be smart of you to give up now, Reyes, before you’re torn to pieces.” Reyes just smirked in return despite part of his mouth being torn away._

_“I guess Dominic’s stupidity rubbed off on me then, because I’m hanging in there.”_

_“It has been twelve hours already. You’re at your limit and you know it.”_

_“I don’t know it, in fact.” Reyes stumbled across the glass floor of the expansive room. Below it was a pool, extra support for Water-types, and a field of rocks, but most of the floor was taken up by large gears and the generators that powered the room. He dodged a few bites from a group of Zubat before scaling over a rushing Bouffalant. “I’m the only one that decides my limit, and I haven’t reached it yet—not until I get over there and personally kick your ass to the seventh circle of Hell.”_

_“You’re not the first to try,” Alakazam said. “But you are, by far, one of the most interesting to do so. Still, I see that it will take more than just traditional methods to kill you.”_

_“Yes, I’ve finally opened your eyes,” he said dryly. Dominic couldn’t see what Alakazam did next, but there was a strange tingling sensation all over his body that made his fur stand on end. Whatever he did shocked Reyes to the core, because he completely froze. “Impossible,” he whispered, backing away._

_“Amazing, isn’t it?” Alakazam said, although his voice sounded sort of strange. “I hope that this fear will stay with you unto death.” He raised his hand and—_

The vision cut off there for both of them. Dominic was on his feet in a second, all of his exhaustion forgotten as he ran towards the door. Louis stood up, fists flaming, and Dominic grabbed him by the neck, slamming him against the wall so hard his eyes rolled back in his head. “I don’t have time to play anymore,” he growled before shoving Louis out of the way. If he had had more time, the terrified expression that he made would’ve saddened him. Instead, he slashed the hinges on the door before breaking through.

 

There were two long halls and lots of rooms on either sides of him, but he knew Reyes’ scent like his own at that point. He looked up and down and caught another scent—Sinclair’s. He followed it out to another crossroad at the end of the hall, and for some odd reason the scent cut off there. He growled in frustration and turned left; he ended up in what looked like an observation room with plenty of seats in front of a glass wall. Outside was the room of Elite Four’s Sidney. Sinclair was sitting on the headrest of one of the chairs with his back to the door.

 

“Sinclair, you bastard! What the hell are you doing here? Alakazam has Reyes!” Sinclair scratched his eye furiously before turning around. Dominic stopped to look at the blood matting his face fur, some of it coming from his right ear.

 

“I know,” he said dryly, jumping to the ground. “My intent was to help him, but Alakazam got to me first. He threw me into this room and I lost consciousness.”

 

“What about Jay and the others?”

 

“Probably in similar broken states,” he answered. “How did you avoid his ire?”

 

“He put me in a room with a little monkey…like a child or something.”

 

“Hm,” he hummed thoughtfully, scratching his eye again. “Curious. He did have us imprisoned for a while, although we weren’t watched and it took a short time to break free. Still, he was quick to respond and picked us off until only Reyes was left. You two, he especially wants to take care of himself.” Dominic groaned.

 

“We don’t have time for this—we have to get Jay and Asterisk and AB.” He stuck his claws out and Sinclair ran up his arm and onto his shoulder. “What happened after that crap in Lavaridge?”

 

“We were taken from there to the Pokémon League, most likely to give the revolutionaries a good view of what was to happen next. It seemed that we were frozen by Myron.”

 

“Myron? You mean your friend.” He went outside but saw that the layout had changed. What was previously an empty hall was suddenly blocked by a wall and branched to the right instead. He didn’t remember that little feature from his last visit, but he ignored it to continue on. “He turned on us.”

 

“He wouldn’t have willingly done so—it was Alakazam,” he said bitterly. “I remember waking up to see you and Reyes gone and myself, Asterisk, Jay, and AB were in one of the Elite Four’s rooms with some guards for good measure. Suffice it to say, they couldn’t restrain the four of us, but when we tried to escape, Alakazam did. That’s all I remember. “Dominic turned around and went to head the other direction down the hall but all of a sudden it was obscured by a brick wall. The spare bricks and bucket of adhesive was even left on the floor.

 

“This guy—!” Dominic hissed under his breath as he instead headed up through the original hallway.

 

“It seems this whole thing is like a game of chess to him,” Sinclair commented. “Fun, but still challenging.”

 

“It’s great to know that my suffering’s a game to him, and since when are you a mind reader?” He skidded to a stop as he reached an intersection with three halls branching off. He could smell Asterisk down one end and AB down the other; no Jay. “Asterisk first, right? Ghosts can’t die.”

 

“They can’t _die,_ ” he replied gravely. “But there are a number of other states they can end up in.”

 

“Aaargh you’re not making this easier for me!” he groaned, pulling his ears so hard it amplified the feeling of his head splitting in half.

 

“I’ll go to Asterisk,” he suggested, jumping to the ground. “You go to AB.”

 

“But—”

 

“It’s not smart to split up in the center of our enemy, yes,” he finished. “But we don’t have a choice, do we? Alakazam is the one in charge here and we just have to follow.”

 

“Sinclair—” He was already going though, heading down the hall, and when Dominic tried to follow he slammed into something invisible but corporeally hard. He felt along the barrier and found it suitably solid with no way past. Apparently Alakazam was too lazy to even make a brick wall this time. He pounded on it a few times before he gave up and headed the other way.

 

_“Stop,” Reyes groaned, one hand over his eye as the other pulled him across the ground. His legs were still attached to his body but they wouldn’t move and he was leaving a trail of tail bits as he went. “I don’t… I can’t…”_

_“Giving up now, are you? I could’ve used that months ago,” Alakazam said, a smile clear in his voice as he stood some feet away from Reyes. “Too late now though. Now, I’ll have fun watching you squirm until you die.”_

Dominic clenched his head as the nasty sensation of Alakazam’s probing claws raked through his brain. He tried to push through but the feel of it stayed with him this time as he went, and it seemed to really be melting into his facilities because the hall seemed to twist and turn like some abstract painting. He lost his balance more than once and he felt like throwing up even though there wasn’t anything in his stomach. Alakazam was playing a game with him, that was for sure, but Dominic had no damn clue what game it was.

 

_“If your Lilly was here, what would you say to her as last words?” he asked Reyes. Reyes couldn’t respond; his throat was slashed open and he couldn’t regrow it fast enough, but Dominic could hear Reyes’ voice in his—Alakazam’s—mind. It didn’t matter and wouldn’t matter to someone as heartless as you, he was saying. Alakazam found that funny. “I can understand compassion, so don’t you think otherwise. This is the greatest form of love. I’d rather my child dies than goes down the wrong path in life.”_

He had to stop as the feeling became unbearable and leaned against the wall. He realized that the pain and sickness got stronger with each step forward he took. Conversely, he felt a little better if he went backwards. “Well damn you if you think that this is gonna stop me,” he said aloud, pressing onwards. It only took ten steps for him to end up in complete gut-wrenching agony.

 

 _Is this too much for you, Dominic?_ Alakazam’s voice bounced around his skull as he spewed his guts all over the ground. _Just lay down and go to sleep—it’ll be over quickly._

“What’s this, eh?” he smirked, clenching his chest. “Reyes gets a fighting chance…I don’t?”

 

_Reyes afflicted me more._

“Well that sucks… I thought I…gave you…apt headaches…” he whispered hoarsely, pushing himself up. Alakazam didn’t respond to him and he was actually grateful. He needed all of his focus to just take one step forward. Each tentative little inch forward was like Hell on his brain, in his psyche. He started going crazy again—he could feel it.

 

He didn’t get to a fork in the hall but Alakazam did him one better. The hall just…cut off. There was a regular old wall and that was it. He pushed it, punched it, kicked it, but in that state he couldn’t do much damage. Alakazam’s suggestion sounded so good to him at the moment that he was halfway there. He curled up and grabbed his ears and closed his eyes to the world. He wanted to give up, wanted to just stay there and die…

 

A clawed hand suddenly reached out from beyond the wall and firmly latched onto his neck, cutting off his already bad breathing as he was lifted into the air. He stared at the wall as he was suddenly pulled forward and felt his skeleton throb as he collided into the solid plaster. He was still reeling from the attack as he was slowly pulled upwards, then backwards, then he was thrown forward again muzzle first, giving him one hell of a nosebleed. He was pushed backwards and he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable concussion when an odd tingling sensation filled his body. He cracked his eyes open to see the wall rushing at him again, but this time he passed _through_ it like the hand. It itched horribly for just a second before he went entirely through and hit the ground again, fully solid. His stomach heaved but the rest of the pain had thankfully vanished.

 

“It’s a miracle I got your thick skull through!” AB said with something like amusement. Dominic gave him a squinty look as he hovered a few feet above the ground. He seemed pretty fine—“alive” in its weirdest form—but his body was frayed at the edges like a smudged painting.

 

“Are you… _cough cough_ …are you okay?” he asked hoarsely, pinching his nose and tilting his head back.

 

“You’re one to talk,” AB commented, “but yeah, pretty much. It took a little fight to get past Alakazam’s Pokémon but I managed, of course! Oh, and this guy too.” He reached behind himself and held out his oddly enlarged fist. When he opened it Jay was sitting on his palm, ruffled but looking pretty unharmed.

 

“So much hate…in one place,” Dominic muttered pitifully as his fur started frizzing. He shook his head as he dragged himself to his feet. “We’ve gotta get to the Champion’s room… Reyes needs our help.”

 

“Where’s Sinclair and Asterisk?” Jay asked. Dominic just shook his head.

 

“We don’t have time to worry! They’re strong, they’ll make it!” They looked unconvinced but it didn’t matter. Dominic turned on his heel towards the long stretch of hall ahead of them. He couldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t scared of what Alakazam would do next, but his concern kept his feet moving. Maybe that was why Sinclair called him unselfish. It was still hard to believe because of the negative self-image he had kept for years, but it finally clicked in his brain.

 

They were there in what felt like too short a time. In front of them were the large double doors leading into the Champion’s room. On either side of them were a dozen paintings, six on each side, of each Champion of Hoenn. The newest one was of Brendan, looking younger than he did when Dominic saw him, and the second newest was Steven, still with that easy and calm expression. Dominic swallowed and grabbed the door handles. It took a little extra force but he pulled them open. The first thing that happened was a gust of what felt like a miniature hurricane burst from the room, throwing him and Jay backwards and dispelling AB into the air. Dominic slammed into something tall and hard, and he looked up to see Asterisk’s severe face.

 

“Thanks for the, err, catch,” he said, pulling from her grip uncomfortably. She nodded as Sinclair, set on her shoulder, looked into the room. Dominic followed his eyes.

 

Bodies. Bodies that took the full brunt of the psychic energy and were blown apart. Sure, it wasn’t _all_ of the revolutionaries, but it was enough to create a shallow pool of blood on the ground. More of them were knocked unconscious or at least not-blown-apart dead, and the dozens that were still conscious almost trampled them to death as they ran through the door shouting and screaming. Dominic had wanted to expose Alakazam’s true nature for a long time, but now that it was out there he somewhat regretted bursting so many innocents’ bubbles. He slowly walked towards the door and looked in carefully, unwilling to get his head blown from his shoulders two seconds in.

 

Well, it wasn’t literal, but his mind sure as hell was blown by what he saw.


	26. 3.6. Um Um Um-Um-Um

Dominic was crazy, that was it. He was crazy or he was hallucinating or he had died and gone to Hell—that _had_ to be the answer, because what he was looking at made no damn sense.

 

Mewtwo. Mewtwo and Alakazam’s prone body, Mewtwo with blood on its hand/paw/claws as it looked on to them with bright red eyes. It shifted its gaze and Dominic followed to see Reyes lying completely still with his body flayed and just barely held together by fraying vines. He reluctantly dragged his eyes back to it, who was hovering in place and looking at all of them with an oddly detached look.

 

 _Well, I didn’t expect all of you to make it,_ it said after a while, all humor gone from its voice as it narrowed its eyes a little. _You though… You’re annoyingly obstinate._ It directed the statement at Dominic.

 

“Is he…you know…?” Dominic pointed at Alakazam, who had a big bloody gash on his forehead. Mewtwo stared at him for a long time.

 

_Possibly. He’s exhausted his use anyhow._

 

“Am I the only one that has no damn idea what’s going on?” Jay asked.

 

“Nope,” AB said. He went over to see to Reyes, which Dominic was grateful for.

 

“Do we get an explanation of some sort?” Sinclair asked with no inflection.

 

 _Why? I’ll just kill you. It would be wasting my breath._ It twisted its hand as it spoke, the blood slowly pulling from its skin to form a spinning red ball just next to its shoulder. _But you’ve managed to live this long, so I guess I do owe you for giving me this much of a challenge. Rarely do I get to exercise my mind so much._ It looked at Dominic and its expression became dark. _This part of the story starts with you._

“M-Me?” he asked dumbly. Mewtwo looked at the blood as it was flattened into a rectangle, then it changed into the shape of a Zorua.

 

 _Yes, you. I saw you all those years ago and I took you for someone that would die within the first three minutes of the revolution, and instead you’re here threatening everything that I’ve worked up to._ Dominic remembered Mewtwo saying those words to Reyes. It clenched its fist and the blood turned into a midair splatter. _Although I’m not free of blame. I expected all to be perfect, and Rayquaza was the first to oppose me. The first of many, I would soon see._

“Yeah, I’m still lost,” Jay said. Mewtwo sighed as it slowly descended to the ground. It moved past them with zero resistance and went towards Reyes.

 

“Stop!” Dominic tried to block its path but he was waved away easily, his shoulder colliding hard with the ground and most definitely dislocating. AB’s form swelled in size until he was like a wall of poisonous gas, but again Mewtwo just passed through like it was nothing. He reformed a few feet away, stunned. Mewtwo looked down at Reyes and raised its index finger, drawing a short line down the air. Mimicking the action, Reyes’ chest started resealing itself, the vines growing in like lots of little stitches. Then it unceremoniously spilled the unknown blood all over Reyes’ chest and partly open mouth, turning his skin a little pink. He opened his still remaining eye, which was dull and unfocused, and looked up at the ceiling dazedly.

 

 _I’d like it if all of my audience can listen,_ Mewtwo told him. Reyes opened his mouth to reply but his voice didn’t come. Mewtwo had fixed his outsides but not all of his internal damage. He still could…would…die. _All right. This may come as a surprise to you all, but I was the catalyst for the revolution eight years ago._ It let it sink in for a moment as the unawares exchanged dubious and shocked glances. Sinclair’s expression turned blank when Dominic looked at him. _Of course, it was something that would’ve happened eventually, I just sped up the process. Why? I felt that humans needed their comeuppance and pokémon needed their grievances aired. Still, some Pokémon disagreed with my methods, like Rayquaza. There’s a reason you haven’t heard about that one in quite some time._

“So is causing an eight-year war just a pastime for you, or…?” Jay said. Mewtwo glared at him, causing him to retreat into Dominic’s mane, but this time he was too preoccupied to be bothered.

 

 _I expected this to be a short-time thing until humans realized the error of their ways, but they’re astonishingly inflexible… And so, the revolution continued._ It sighed with an amazing amount of pity. _Pokémon lives were lost, which is regrettable in any situation, but what’s done is done. And don’t get me wrong, I’ve tried to shorten this whole thing, but things like this are best resolved by the instigators._

“That is a very twisted sentiment,” Asterisk growled. Mewtwo smirked, unabashed. “And you are a twisted Pokémon.”

 

 _You’re not the first to say so, and surely you won’t be the last. So, I decided to let the revolution run its course, but there were a few Pokémon who threatened to derail my progress—eight Pokémon, to be exact. Eight Pokémon whom I’ve been chasing for eight years._ It matched Sinclair’s levelled look as its eyes flashed. _I was not nearly dumb enough to jump into this without considering the consequences. There were plenty, of course, but namely eight Pokémon with certain traits, be they individual strength or leadership or plain_ stubbornness _that, with the right circumstances, threatened the revolution. I had a choice: ensure that these random future events didn’t happen, or pull the facilitators from the equation altogether. The second option was less volatile, and so you have it._

“So you spent the whole revolution hunting down and killing Pokémon that just had a _chance_ of causing less death all around?” Dominic accused, pointing at him. “Eight lives on top of the other hundreds you just totally blew off like nothing—”

 

 _Now you’re being annoying._ With a swipe of its arm, Dominic felt three of his ribs smash into bits. He fell to his knees with blood swelling from his throat, feeling one of his lungs rip from the fragments. _And I’m almost done too,_ it sighed. _I spent eight years tracking down each Pokémon, who proved to be decent at evading my efforts, but eventually they all fell. Mick the Golurk, Nine the Banette, Kyou the Weavile, Neon the Raichu, Oliver the Pidgeot, Ella the Vaporeon, and Bonnie the Exeggutor have already met their demises—_ you _were left. But you were a little hard to get to past Blaziken, so I had to pull you away from your defenses somehow._

“And so you controlled Alakazam so he could give Reyes that order?” Sinclair asked. Mewtwo smiled—not smirked, full-on smiled.

 

 _You’re wrong there. I didn’t just latch onto Alakazam for this little task of mine—he had been my figurehead for years. It was, after all, less conspicuous than making myself known as a Legendary Pokémon._ But it had already lost them. That was probably the hardest one to swallow. Alakazam was just the puppet all that time? It didn’t make sense to Dominic and he hoped it made even less sense to the others. Then again, it was hard to make sense of a lot of things when he was drowning in his blood. _Oh, Alakazam still was conscious,_ it continued, gesturing vaguely to his body. _It was him that chose to begin the revolutionaries, and it was there that I started my influence on him._

_At this point in time, I had a bigger task to handle. I had been outrun by an afflicted Zoroark and betrayed by one of my best soldiers,_ it continued vehemently, eyes glowing brightly as it clenched its fists. _Never had I been so undermined, as a Legendary Pokémon, by those under me. And you two_ continued _to undermine me, somehow slipping from under my grasp each and every time for weeks!_ I _couldn’t come after you no matter how much I wished it, because unlike my predecessor I cannot turn invisible to pass easily through the masses, and I couldn’t use Alakazam—even my abilities have limits, and I would’ve been unable to properly control him if he strayed too far—and so I had to rely on these insipid, brainless drones to do something that should have been easy in their hordes, yet they could never catch you…!_ It let out a cynical laugh before raising a hand. The ground between them suddenly fissured, forcing Asterisk and Sinclair, Dominic and Jay apart as Mewtwo rose into the air, a glow surrounding its body.

 

“Looks like break time’s up,” Jay commented, getting to his feet with electricity streaming off of him in all directions. Asterisk leapt up with her wrists and ankles aflame, bouncing anxiously as he tensed for a fight. Sinclair chuckled softly as he grounded himself and raised his tail. Dominic continued lying prone on the ground, rubbing his chest as if that could fix his lung. He couldn’t get up, couldn’t fight, and hell, he could barely breathe. He clenched his throat as blood started filling it, feeling his life slowly drain as his organs shut down from lack of oxygen. He raised his eyes to Alakazam, who still wasn’t moving and just barely breathing, and mentally laughed at everything.

 

_Ridiculous… Completely ridiculous!_

“Hear me…?” he whispered with his last few breaths, smirking slightly at Alakazam. “Can ya…hear… Yer…we’re…pitiful…all of us…” It was stupid. It was ridiculous. It was…insane.

 

_So I guess it’s just like me then._

Mewtwo held them off with just one hand, its psychic powers beyond comprehension. They had come there ready for Alakazam, who was already a legend in his own right, but that was a Legend _ary,_ something in a completely different class. Asterisk was the only one able to hold her ground—well, she _was_ a Champion’s Pokémon—but on her own she wasn’t going to last too long. He tried to brace his claws against the ground but his blood made it too slippery to get a grip and he fell on his face. He stared down through the glass floor and into the gears beneath. He remembered that they were the power generators for the room, giving electricity to things like the health screen and the lights and the—

 

_The alarm! I forgot!_

The alarm was synched to the health screen: if the challenger’s Pokémon had zero HP left, but was still getting attacked (yeah, even Champions could get a little sadistic) then there would be a silent alarm for the room to restrain the Champion’s Pokémon. That could help, but the problem was that it had to be preset; it wouldn’t just activate and grab Mewtwo. He just had to stand up; if he could actually stand on his feet, then he could figure out the rest. He coughed out a glob of blood that splattered inches from his face. Getting up would be harder than he anticipated.

 

Sinclair and Jay made a combined Thunderbolt large enough to split an average-sized house in two. Mewtwo waved its arms and created a faint barrier that split the bolt in two and sent it right back at them. AB blocked with his own Psychic, dispelling the electricity, then he rushed Mewtwo with his tongue out. Mewtwo’s eyes glowed a second before AB exploded into a cloud of violet dust, then he propagated some ways away to form into an eyed blob. It was a good thing he was already dead, otherwise that would’ve _hurt_. Well, maybe “hurt” was an understatement.

 

Asterisk took a particularly powerful hit in the stomach, sending her skidding so quickly that her talons cut deep gouges in the thick glass. She gritted her beak as sweat formed on her forehead from the pain. Her flames flickered for a moment before puffing out altogether. “Asterisk,” Sinclair said worriedly, breaking his focus to look at her. Mewtwo slashed its finger in the air, creating a literal blade of psychic energy that slammed into the ground centimeters from him. Dominic couldn’t see Sinclair well from his angle but he did see a spray of blood surge as he hit his back. Jay’s ears raised as he started running towards him, unaware of Mewtwo’s eyes following his path.

 

“J…Jay…don’t…” Dominic tried to warn, but all that came out was more blood and a bad wheeze that even AB, who was closest, couldn’t understand. Mewtwo used both hands this time, made an Aura Sphere the size of a golf ball, and fired. Dominic stupidly assumed it wouldn’t do much damage, then it hit Jay in the side and exploded in size. Dominic’s ears were still intact past the blood rushing through them, and with them he could hear each and every one of Jay’s bones crack on impact. He hit the ground inches from Sinclair and became just as still.

 

_No… No no no no no…_

AB’s form trembled as he solidified back into a Haunter, his eyes turning scarlet beneath his pupils as his fists clenched. Dark energy radiated from him that he concentrated into something vaguely resembling a Pichu, then he released it into wild pulses that looked like sickles. Mewtwo raised an arm with intent to block, but its barrier shattered before their eyes, and it gasped in surprise as AB’s Dark Pulse cut through its skin and created thin streams of red blood all over its body. It bared its teeth at AB, fists clenched.

 

_Mewtwo is a Psychic-type… As strong as it is, it’s still weak to Dark-type moves…_

AB exploded into gas again as it rushed at Mewtwo, looking like a mini tornado as he drilled through the air, and Dominic believed that he had a chance. Mewtwo closed his eyes, exhaled, then opened them. They still glowed, but with an iridescent light. AB froze with his claws just short of touching Mewtwo’s nose as the rainbow light encased his body. The gas started bubbling, changing color to a lighter purple, and AB groaned in pain. Then his eyes widened as he turned solid again, apparently not of his own accord. Mewtwo smirked as it pressed its index finger to the space between AB’s eyes, watching him tremble with his mouth agape.

 

 _You’re the first Pokémon to have injured me in years,_ it mused. _Let that thought comfort you on your way down._ A white force field formed from their point of contact, rapidly expanding to envelop AB’s entire body. Tears streamed down his face and Dominic suddenly remembered something terrifying:

 

_We’re the same age. He’s a child too._

AB’s gaseous body swelled and exploded within the bubble, but this time there was no reform. There was blood as if he was alive, and when Mewtwo released the bubble it all splattered on the ground to join the rest. Asterisk gasped before directing her gaze back at Mewtwo, her flames popping. Dominic was glad he could barely see; it meant he could die faster and just escape that place. Ali, Steven, Reyes, Sinclair, Jay, AB… He knew it, he always knew that those who got involved with him died, but he thought he had a chance, that he could put on a good person’s mask and maybe trick Fate, but that was how his life would always be: his personal Hell. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to die a little quicker, but he knew it was the coward’s way out. Had the King been there, Dominic would’ve had some common sense bashed into him.

 

_The King isn’t here. I’m fighting with my own strength…and I’ll win with my own strength._

He forced his eyes open even though his body told him otherwise, even if all he wanted to do was lie there and die, and focused his scattered brain. He _believed_ , with all of his might, that his body wasn’t as broken as it was, and so he took his first deep breath in what felt like years. He brought his feet up and rose, not a bit of unsteadiness left in his body as he turned towards Mewtwo. It had Asterisk by the neck, her legs kicking wildly at its torso as it kept its grip. Its eyes narrowed in concentration as she began twisting from its psychic grip, her legs bursting into flames and raking across his cheek. Its head snapped to the side from the impact, and when it turned back part of its mouth had been gashed open, showing its bloodied teeth. Its eyes glowed and slowly, the fight left Asterisk’s body. At first, Dominic thought that it had killed her, then he saw that she was still moving, albeit weakly. On the other hand, Mewtwo grabbed her arm and clenched its fist, instantly breaking her radius and ulna without even using Psychic.

 

 _You don’t know how much I hate getting injured,_ Mewtwo said, grabbing Asterisk’s beak with its other hand. She bit down on its fingers hard, hard enough that blood ran down its arm, but it didn’t even flinch. It held a tight grip on her jaw and pulled down, forcing her beak open, and pulled even harder until her muscles were stretched to the limit.

 

“Augh!” Asterisk cried out as her skin started tearing. Dominic didn’t give Mewtwo the chance.

 

 _You should be dead,_ it said, releasing its grip on Asterisk and letting her hit the ground. Dominic didn’t respond, sinking his claws even deeper into the space between Mewtwo’s shoulder blades as his arm erupted in hellfire. Mewtwo waved its hand, probably to crumple Dominic into flesh paper, but it had no effect. He didn’t give it time to think and pulled free before dealing Power-Up Punch right in the wound. Mewtwo ungracefully fell on its stomach, tail in the air, and Dominic honestly found it a little funny. It floated to its feet with a wry smile on its face. _But obviously, you’re not._

“I’ve survived this long, haven’t I?” he taunted, giving Mewtwo two middle claws. Even so, he could feel his broken ribs jangling in his chest and his lung crying out in pain. “I’ll die, and soon too,” he admitted, “but before that, you’re going to suffer the pain of everybody you killed in this pointless war, and when that’s done with, I’ll drag you to Hell with me.” Mewtwo’s eyes widened as it became aware of the hellfire slowly burning a hole in its back.

 

 _Wha— What is this?_ It tried to dispel the fire but it was ineffective. _Arceus!_ it exclaimed pitifully, falling to its knees. Dominic gave it a thumbs-down.

 

“Doesn’t feel very nice now, does it?”

 

 _No, it doesn’t,_ it said in a different tone, and without warning it shoved its arm into the growing flame. It instantly extinguished with a puff. _Did you forget that the blood of a Legendary Pokémon can put it out? That’s poor even for you._ It raised its hand in the air and before Dominic’s eyes its wounds began to heal. _It will take a lot more than that to kill me,_ it warned.

 

“Let’s just see.” He put his claws in his mouth to stretch it out and let his tongue loll out. Mewtwo stared, initially too stunned to react. Dominic then opened his eyes wide and pulled his ears out to full length, like a Buneary. Mewtwo growled, irritated, but still didn’t move.

 

_I don’t like being patronized._

“I’m not patronizing you.” He blew a raspberry, then he turned around and gave Mewtwo a perfect view of his behind. “I’m having fun. See?” He looked over and saw Mewtwo gain a faint black aura.

 

 _You Rattata._ It threw its hands out but had no effect again.

 

“Yeah, I guess your Miracle Eye wore off,” he said, slashing his claws together. “And now you can’t touch me.” Dominic ran forward as Mewtwo took a stance, holding a fist out to block him. He dodged under its fist and instead got a knee to his stomach, knocking his breath out, then Dominic grabbed Mewtwo’s wild tail and slashed it almost deeply enough to sever it. Mewtwo gripped Dominic’s muzzle like a vise and tossed him back with Asterisk’s strength, sending him skidding across the ground and creating cracks from the force of impact. Mewtwo raised its hand, but aside from a few paltry sparks nothing happened. It gritted its teeth and shot a murderous glare at Dominic. “Taunt,” he smiled, trying to fix his dislocated shoulder. Dominic saw Mewtwo ready itself for another attack and rushed to his feet, stumbling towards Reyes. He could hear it still, a faint heartbeat—

 

 _Give Rayquaza my best when you join it,_ Mewtwo said coldly, creating another tiny Aura Sphere that rushed towards Dominic like a bullet. He only grazed Reyes’ arm before it hit his leg, instantly breaking his bones from the bottom-up in a way even his illusions couldn’t fix, and he hit the ground to join the others.


	27. 3.7. Toe In Magma

Reyes had thought he died already when Alakazam toppled and Dominic’s mystical mythical Mewtwo had shown up, but he quickly realized that that wasn’t even close to what dying was like. He had never, ever gotten so close to that line before—actually, he was very sure that he _had_ died for at least two minutes. He remembered seeing Brendan and Azalea and Sunny one more time amidst a bright light, and he remembered his body feeling oddly ethereal as he walked towards it, but just as he drew close to them, a clawed hand reached out and roughly yanked him back into blotchy darkness.

 

His first thought, of course, was “Augh, Dominic!”

 

He laid in that darkness for a while to regain his senses. The first to return was his hearing, and he became aware of the odd tense silence in the area, similar to the calm after a lost war. His smell was next, and all he could smell was blood, and then his taste returned and all he could taste was his chlorophyll. His other senses slowly returned to him and, lastly, he could feel. His hand was on something rough and bumpy but covered in soft fur—it also felt damp to the touch. He cracked his eyes open a bit and let the blurriness fade as he looked around. The carnage around him…Mewtwo hovering slightly above the ground with that deathly blank expression…it all came rushing back to him.

 

His hand went to his abdomen and he felt whole instead of flayed as he was before. He looked down and saw that his body was intact, which was severely strange. Then, if he looked hard enough and crossed his eyes a little, he saw double: one image was intact, the other was ruined and bloodied, which was how he remembered it. He felt fine too, but if he looked past that he could feel the brokenness of his body as well. It took him two seconds to realize the only possible explanation, and when he looked to his side he saw the cause…or his remains, at least.

 

 _And now you’re awake too,_ Mewtwo sighed, its tail turning itself into a knot. He realized why: there were several deep claw marks almost tearing it apart. He looked at Dominic again, who wasn’t moving or breathing, and worried. He looked beyond Mewtwo and saw the others, Sinclair and Jay and Asterisk, and they were in similar states. He couldn’t see AB at all, and that was the most nerve-wracking. Mewtwo worked its jaw for a moment as the glow from its eyes faded. “You all have really pissed me off,” it said, physically working its mouth and throat to speak. Mewtwo slashed its hand down, creating a thin blade of energy that spun towards him. He stared at it, knowing he didn’t have the time to move and especially with Dominic holding onto his wrist, but as soon as the attack touched his skin, it vanished. Mewtwo’s gaze went to Dominic and its expression darkened.

 

“It seems you can’t touch me,” Reyes said, getting to his feet. Mewtwo exhaled and raised its hand, palm forward, releasing an Ice Beam that almost certainly could have frozen a lake. Reyes tested his legs for just a moment before grabbing Dominic with both arms and jumping into the air as high as he could. The glass floor was frozen beneath him, and as soon as he hit it he slipped and flopped onto his back. He sent his vines out as soon as he was oriented and they latched onto Mewtwo’s damaged tail. It gasped in pain as Reyes dragged it into the air before throwing it off towards the viewing stands. Mewtwo crashed into the stone with a loud boom and a surge of dust and debris. Reyes used the time to shake Dominic.

 

“Dominic, Dominic wake up already. I know you’re alive—your illusion is still here. Wake up! Don’t just die now!” Even as he said it he could feel how broken Dominic was. There was a lot of blood and Reyes was having a better time finding pieces of bone than whole ones. He was breathing, albeit so badly that he was going to die in five minutes at the most. He was most likely putting all of his energy into his illusion. “Arceus,” he groaned, feeling his heart pulse weakly in his chest. Reyes could only even last as long as Dominic’s illusion did—as soon as Dominic went, he was dead meat too.

 

Mewtwo rose from the dust with several large boulders floating by its sides. In one calculated movement the rocks broke apart into two dozen stakes, and with a flick of its wrist they were flying towards them. Reyes raised his claws and grabbed the first one, then he turned his leaf blades to cut through the rest. He smashed the last remaining one against the ice at his feet, shattering it to reveal the glass. Mewtwo, already walking towards them, raised its hand, releasing several sparks of energy that amassed into a massive bolt of white energy. It was hard, but Reyes focused his energy and used Protect. He still felt the burn of the Hyper Beam all over his skin but the energy deflected in all directions, smashing walls, the ceiling, and burning the floor until only a thin, bubbling pool of glass remained. Plaster and concrete rained down on them as the sunrise appeared through the numerous new skylights in the ceiling. Mewtwo gritted its teeth and dragged its index finger in the air, creating five small orange points that burst into a full-blown conflagration in the shape of the character 大.

 

“Dodge this,” it whispered before the flames erupted and sped towards him. Reyes punched the weakened glass, causing it to shatter, and slid down into the hole still clinging to Dominic. He sunk down in between the large bronze gears as the flames burned through the remainder of the glass, expanding the hole into a cavity. Mewtwo stood at the edge, eyes scanning the mass of contraptions, but they were decently hidden by it. Reyes’ breathing sounded too loud in his ears as he waited for a break, some opportunity to catch it by surprise, but it seemed stubborn to give up the search. It raised a hand and a gear some feet away from them clicked, then it began a slow turn. Consequently, the nearby gears also started revolving, all of them until it reached Dominic and Reyes. He had to pull away to avoid being crushed, and it was then that Mewtwo saw them.

 

“Whoa!” Reyes exclaimed as the gears suddenly lurched to a stop beneath him. He felt them buzzing faintly against his skin and looked down; thankfully, neither him nor Dominic were in a position to get crushed. He looked up at Mewtwo, who had been and still was being restrained by thick black bands stretching from the recesses of the apparatus. He laughed out of pure relief, shaking Dominic a bit to catch his attention. “Well, well. You were right.”

 

“Humph,” Mewtwo grunted, its eyes glowing as it tried futilely to tear the bands apart.

 

“Those were made to hold Pokémon on a Champion’s level. I believe that’s enough to hold you.” He looked up at the disappearing sunlight and forced his body to do photosynthesis in overdrive. It would exhaust him, but he would live. He felt his seed pods growing back, but not fast enough as the gears creaked and groaned trying to restrain Mewtwo. He felt some of the life return to him and shook Dominic gently. “Dominic, it’s okay. It’s okay, just release your illusion. Dominic?” He pulled back Dominic’s eyelid and saw only the white of his eye. “…Hey, hey I got some meat for you.”

 

“Meat?” he croaked, his eye rolling down. “Wha—who—ugugu…” he groaned. “Can’t…move…barely…brea…” His illusion fell in a second and Reyes sucked in a breath at the reemergence of his devastating pain.

 

“It’s okay, it’s okay…”

 

“Sin…Aster…J-Jay…AB…” he continued, tears forming in his eyes. “They’re…”

 

“They’re going to be alright, Dominic.” Reyes hadn’t felt guilty about lying in a long time, but he felt Dominic needed to hear at least one good thing. He started coughing, blood splattering on Reyes’ chest that his body gratefully absorbed. He wanted to do something, but Dominic already had two feet in the grave. He had seen it enough times to know that there was very little he could do, if anything. He took a rattling breath and continued in a low voice, “It’s… It’ll be alright, okay? Just close your eyes and everything will be all right.”

 

“You mean die,” he said quietly, his eyes already partly closed. “’s okay to…” The gear beneath them suddenly lurched, causing them to slip and fall deeper into the inner workings. Reyes could smell smoke as the power source became overwhelmed when Mewtwo started snapping the bands one by one. He watched Mewtwo break the last of his restraints and suddenly the gears were overflowing with energy. Reyes hit the very bottom of the room and shoved Dominic in the space between two of them, then he guarded himself with his leaf blades as they exploded with movement. The gears were moving so quickly that they were like blades, and the steel rods holding them together shook as they were overcome by the stress Mewtwo was putting on them. He felt the blunt teeth hit him left and right, bruising the skin he managed to regrow, then the dangerous part came: they broke away from their braces and started falling at high speed. Reyes threw himself out of the way as several small gears jabbed into the ground where he was just standing.

 

“Almost died,” he sighed, glancing at Dominic. Well, he wasn’t any deader than he already was. Mewtwo looked down into the underbelly and locked eyes with Reyes. It waved its hand and the gears at the top exploded one by one into metal chips, and it made its descent as the way quickly cleared. Reyes growled as he plucked away a half-formed seed pod and took Dominic’s arm, trying to press it into his mouth. He only groaned in response, and Reyes gave up, letting it hit the ground. He probably would’ve choked on it in that condition.

 

Mewtwo halted some feet above them and held out both hands. The remainder of gears exploded, some being inches away from him, and when he attempted to block the shrapnel he felt one of the steel rods pierce his leg, causing him to fall on his side. Mewtwo snapped its fingers and flames swelled from the ground up, barely giving him any warning before they were shriveling his skin and burning his organs away. He was used to pain in some sick way ad so he didn’t scream, just laid there until Mewtwo let the flames wear out, feeling his vines automatically extend and fall limply on the ground. Mewtwo’s feet hit the ground lightly a bit away, then it moved closer to kick Reyes hard in his abdomen. He rolled across the ground before crashing into half of a broken gear and came to a stop. He felt himself get lifted, then he was slammed down into the ground. He was lifted again and slammed again, then again, then again.

 

 _You know, I respected you,_ Mewtwo told him in his mind even as he slammed him repeatedly until he could barely think. _I favored your dedication and passion, empathy and bravery… You were one of my best, Reyes. And look at you now, giving it up for who? Him?_ Reyes tried to snort but he could only spit chlorophyll through his teeth.

 

 _You’re maybe the twelfth person to tell me that, and it’s arceusdamn tiring,_ he thought, knowing that Mewtwo would hear it. Its face twisted into a sneer as it held Reyes in the air instead of immediately slamming him again.

 

 _The truth is tiring to you?_ it scoffed. _That’s fresh. You firmly believed in creating a better future—what can_ he _do for it? I’m the one in the right here._

_None of us are… In a freaking war, the two options are winning or dying, not right or wrong._

Mewtwo took a step back, its face blank again, then it sent Reyes over to Dominic’s prone body. His fur had been burnt by the flames but it still didn’t put him in a worse condition than he already was in, then again Reyes couldn’t tell if he was breathing as he laid on his face. Then it floated into the air and the both of them ascended from the bowels of the room to ground level, staring at the bloodshed Mewtwo had left, including Sinclair and Jay and Asterisk. “This is what you’re fighting for,” it said aloud, eyes dark. “Lives already lost. What’s the point? They’re gone and they won’t come back, and even more Pokémon will die in the future. Even if you win against me, Reyes, who’s to say that the revolution won’t return in full force in another eight years? Eight months? Eight seconds?” It sighed and closed its eyes tiredly. “You said that in a war, you can win or die. Obviously, these Pokémon chose to die. Why would you want to join them so fervently?”

 

“They…didn’t…choose…” he hissed through his damaged throat. “You…kill…’em…” Mewtwo flexed its fingers and Reyes felt the psychic grip grow stronger, compressing his half-grown skeleton.

 

“It doesn’t—” Mewtwo’s eyes flashed as it turned towards the back wall, going completely still. _…It took them a while,_ it murmured as an afterthought, returning its gaze to Reyes. _I no longer have the time to mess around. Soon, they will come to this room and find your remains._ Reyes felt the pressure increase exponentially, making him feel like he was about to be reduced to protons and electrons. The pain increased and increased until he couldn’t take it anymore. _Goodbye._

“To you,” he whispered. It took a lot of effort and garnered a lot of pain, but he forced his leaves to grow. His body was surrounded by a green aura as his leaves grew and grew, forcing his muscles to go rigid as he basically turned into the branch at the center of a bush. Mewtwo looked slightly confused as it plucked Reyes’ leaves rapidly, but not any faster than they could grow. It made a mistake in releasing Reyes to the ground, as then his vines could dig through the marble and take root.

 

 _You’re not going to take me with you,_ Mewtwo sneered, going up in the air with the intent to fly off in the impending dawn. Reyes’ vines snapped out and latched onto its ankle before it could, coiling up its leg to tug it back down as the rest of his body propagated into wild grass. It blew his vine apart with Psychic but three more took their places. It tried burning them, cutting them, and frying them, but each time they responded faster and faster. Mewtwo saw Reyes’ leaves and grass grow over the remains it had left, completely covering them as if they were body-shaped hills. In the growing sunlight, the leaves grew small flower buds, which it got a better and better view of as it was wrenched down towards the blooming meadow. The glass was shattered as his roots pervaded it and with the addition of the aqua and rocky terrains the growth accelerated. It still couldn’t break the vines, and as it grew closer thicker ones wrapped its body like ropes, binding its arms and legs, then a vine went in its mouth like a gag. Somehow, that restricted its telepathy as well. It was pulled to the ground and left to squirm like a Wurmple next to a collection of large seeds.

 

——————

 

Louis was one of the first people in the room and he was shocked by what he saw. The entire room—which was _a lot_ of square feet—was covered in grass and flower buds, every surface in there. The other revolutionaries ventured inside hesitantly, but nothing happened to them as they touched the plants, so he assumed that it was alright. He stepped inside and felt a weird kind of buzz on his skin like familiarity but he just shook it off.

 

It looked like there were bodies under the grass but it was hard to tell since they looked so natural. He went to the nearest little bump and poked it warily. It didn’t move at all, not even in his imagination. He was just about to uproot the grass when a muffled shout broke through the silence. He lurched to his feet with his tail blazing and saw three other revolutionaries jump back from something that wasn’t grass at all. It was a…Pokémon, it looked like, bound with vines until it would only wiggle and squirm, and its eyes were filled with hate. Its words were muffled but it sounded like it was cursing all of them.

 

“It was this…monster,” Ymir whispered, her talons nervously digging up the dirt beneath before she flew a safe distance from it. “It… It killed Alakazam, and…and more…”

 

“What?” Louis’ blood froze as several other Pokémon confirmed her words.

 

“It was even stronger than Alakazam,” Brahms continued nervously, curling into a ball within that weird green gel covering his body. “It just blew ‘em all apart like it was nothing, and it didn’t even look sorry.”

 

“Can we kill it?” Rayner asked, electricity sparking between his antennae. Ymir shook her head.

 

“You’d need more than an army to beat this thing,” Ty sighed.

 

“But it _was_ beaten,” Brahms retorted.

 

“But…why who?” That was the only question nobody could answer. Louis turned back to the little shape beneath the grass and noticed that it looked suspiciously like a Pichu…

 

“Look, there’s a Pokémon under here!” someone else cried out. A few of them ran over to the site, which was down a hole into the inner mechanisms and generator of the Champion’s room. Under something that looked like a brass gear covered in moss and flowers there was another body mound, but Emelia had parted the grass to reveal the face. Louis gasped and backed away. “It’s, uh, a what?”

 

“The K-King,” Louis stammered, staring at his face. It was burnt and a little swollen but he knew he could recognize him. Together, they pulled away the rest of the grass to free up his body. Louis was still a little shaky but he realized that there was nothing for him to be scared of. The King was out cold; his fur was charred and they moved him like every bone in his body was broken. He backed away and started ascending the gears, using the grass as handholds, and he became aware of sunlight streaming through holes in the ceiling. He didn’t pay much attention to it until he started smelling pollen in the air, and when he reached ground level again he realized why.

 

The flower buds they saw were opening up, revealing beautiful flowers like the ones from Ever Grande itself. They were all colors, all shapes, all sizes, and they made a smell like…home. That was the only way he could describe it—home. He spun in a circle as the flowers detached and floated away by themselves, then the bodies they were on started to awaken. The one he saw first, the one he thought looked like a Pichu, turned out to be one, and a shiny one at that. He sat up quickly with sparks flying from his cheeks and leapt forward in the same movement, crashing into Louis’ chest. The electricity made his fur stand on end but it wasn’t too harmful.

 

“What? What’s going on?” His eyes were wide and unfocused as his head snapped around. “Where is it? What’s going on?”

 

“Hey, calm down.” Louis carefully pulled him from his chest and held him out. Slowly, he calmed down.

 

“Why is there so much damn grass?” he muttered. Then his muscles tensed. “Where is it? Where’s Mewtwo?”

 

“Mew…two? Do you mean that thing?” Louis pointed at it in the distance where several Pokémon were still trying to figure out how to safely move it away. The Pichu sparked in surprise and his eyes popped open.

 

“It was…it was beaten? How?”

 

“I have no idea. Some revolutionaries came running, screaming about a monster here, and when we came we saw…this.”

 

“This is… Wait! Where are they?” he demanded, gripping Louis’ hands hard with his little paws. Louis noticed some blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and swallowed.

 

“I don’t think that’s your biggest problem—”

 

“Tell me,” he said more forcefully, his electricity increasing. “Where are the others?”

 

“The, uh, others?” He looked around at the other revolutionaries and saw them salvaging a bunch of bodies hidden under the blooming flowers. “They might be…um…they’re here, that’s for sure.” Jay squirmed and Louis released him. As soon as he hit the ground he took off running, checking each and every body. At least twenty percent of them woke up when they were unearthed, but the rest...

 

“Louis, come see this,” Brahms called. Louis passed the crowds of Pokémon to find him floating next to a very familiar body.

 

“Alakazam… I don’t wanna see his dead body, Brahms.”

 

“That’s not it. Look at this.” A piece of the gel extended like a tentacle and touched Alakazam’s forehead. When that happened, faint wisps of smoke rose up like steam. They made very quick images before they dissipated and he only caught a few: Alakazam attacking Reyes, that “Mewtwo” thing appearing, that Pichu and a few others falling in their blood, the King Dominic hitting the ground… “They were the ones that beat it, somehow. And you can see them dying, but out here, they’re still alive.”

 

“But they died, so…what brought them back?”

 

“ _I_ think it’s the flowers, but Brahms is such a moron he can’t realize it,” his other brain said. They called him “Brahms-2” as a joke, but he preferred “Olimar.” “The flowers worked on those that weren’t dead and used photosynthesis to give them enough nutrients to survive. It’s really simple for those with more than three brain cells.”

 

He chose to ignore the ruder parts of his explanation. “But where did the flowers come from?”

 

“Give it your best guess.”

 

“Give it my— That’s not possible,” he said immediately, catching on. “I mean, even if he used Frenzy Plant, for him to have done all this at once, he would’ve died, and…” He froze.

 

“I’ll bet you fifty Poffins that you don’t find his body here,” Olimar told him. Louis went around the entire room, checked every body that they found (which included that Pichu’s friends: another Pichu and a Blaziken and Dominic) but he didn’t see Reyes. The closest he came was a handful of seeds the size of Berries.

 

“Hey.” He felt something tugging on his tail and turned around. The other Pichu, the one with a notched ear, was looking up at him. There was a thin trail of blood following him that came from the place that should’ve had a tail. “Where is he?”

 

Honestly, Louis was getting a little sick of pronouns. “He who?”

 

“Dominic,” he amended. “Where is Dominic?”

 

“He’s down there, but he’s in…bad shape… Who are you guys anyway?”

 

“Nameless heroes,” he shrugged with a wry smile. “You know, I thought Dominic was crazy for wanting to stand up against Alakazam, and you all probably thought the same. Now look: had we not come, Mewtwo would’ve caused a lot more carnage. Life is a little ironic at times.”

 

“Yeah,” he mumbled, still chagrinned by the thought. “What happened to Alakazam anyway?”

 

“He was being manipulated by Mewtwo,” the Pichu answered. “It said that it wasn’t fully controlling him, but who knows how much of what it said is truth. It was the reason that Alakazam was chasing after Dominic in the first place.”

 

“W…What?”

 

“And more, but this isn’t the right place, and I think all of us need a Pokémon Center,” he muttered, his ears falling tiredly. Then he noticed Louis’ fist. “What’s in your hand?”

 

“I, uh, couldn’t find Reyes, but I found these.” He showed him the seeds. He sniffed them for a moment before staring, perplexed.

 

“You should bring those to the Pokémon Center too. And…” He trailed off as his eyes went behind Louis. Louis followed his gaze and saw Mewtwo being lifted out by two Fighting-types and with a Honchcrow perched on its forehead for good measure. The Pichu just hit the ground without warning, his eyes dazed and unfocused as he sighed in exhaustion. “And we could all use a day to forget all of this.”


	28. 3.8. The Future Is For Sure

He saw a lot of what they were doing in the next four months. They didn’t seem to have a problem with him watching, so he stayed and looked over them. It was easiest for him to do anyway.

 

The Pokémon Center was large but it was still crowded with how many injured ones were inside. The Nurses and Chansey were always hurrying from Point A to Point B, but as long as he stayed out of their path they never once complained. There were many used bandages tossed away, plenty of emptied IV bags recycled, and more than a few Pokémon that didn’t make the long nights and were buried in the Outside. The doctors and nurses weren’t disheartened, however, and pressed on with those that remained just as furiously, tirelessly, even as lives were lost each day. In two months, out of the one-oh-six Pokémon brought in to the Pokémon Center, two dozen survived, excluding the ones that survived on the boundary of life and death.

 

He visited some of them frequently, and although he didn’t know them by name he knew them by certain details. He didn’t have a good grip on speech yet so his conversations were weak, but Tongue-less Politoed didn’t mind. She mostly just laid around in a room specially built for Water-types, that being a small pool instead of a bed that they could sit in to stay hydrated. She always looked at him with a tortured expression and with tears streaming down her face, and he didn’t know what to do except say some of the few words he knew, which weren’t very helpful or comforting but broke the awkward silence. After a while, she started looking amused by his presence and gave a little smile when he showed up. Her vitals bombed three weeks in and he stopped being able to see her.

 

There was another one that did have a tongue, and he/she almost never stopped talking. He/she was a Houndoom with no horns and a voice so indistinct he couldn’t tell if the Houndoom was male or female, and that was the one thing he/she never talked about. He/she was his main source of information from Outside, giving him random details about things like television, strawberry cake, gaming systems, and CG movies. A lot of it felt pointless to him, but the Houndoom was the most optimistic Pokémon he had seen over there, and so he chose to bear with it.

 

Two Zangoose he didn’t know were always rushing around to help. The staff, although expansive, was understandably shorthanded, and so anybody able-bodied pitched in any way possible. He knew them because they were twins—the obnoxious type that finished each other’s sentences. They always made time to speak with him though, but they used words and terms he had no idea of, and so most of what they said flew over his head. He did understand, however, that they became upset when seeing him more often than not. Once, the boy mentioned that they “should’ve helped sooner” and the girl saying that “it shouldn’t have happened.” He didn’t see them a lot after that, although he was unsure why.

 

There was also the shiny Pichu, which he knew because that one was in psychiatric. He _was_ injured physically, if the bandages covering his ears were anything to go by, but his main problem were his spontaneous angry outbursts. He apparently had no patience with medicine of any kind and reacted violently when presented with pills, intravenous medicine, or otherwise. He had never seen the Pichu face-to-face, but he had often seen Nurse Joys and Chansey running from his room with charred marks on them and he heard a good amount of horror stories about that Pichu. There was a Blaziken a floor down from him that he barely saw, as she was frequently visited by a Trainer that shut him out. From what he knew, she became unable to produce fire. A few rooms down from her, an OR had been working on some Pokémon for a long time, one that gave ghastly screams day and night.

 

Then there was his favorite: the Pichu “Sinclair.”

 

His only injury was his tail—or rather, lack thereof. The afflicted area was bandaged to be hidden from view, which also caused him to always be lying on his stomach or side on his comically tiny bed. He couldn’t articulate his questions well, yet Sinclair always gave him the right answer he was looking for. Their conversations only really consisted of a couple of questions each time because Sinclair didn’t have much energy due to the painkillers, but he enjoyed when they spoke. It brought his mind away from what happened when he wasn’t speaking to anybody.

 

He wasn’t allowed in the morgue at all, but to him it was just another room to look around, and so he waited until it was empty to sneak in often times. Unlike the others, it was freezing cold and deathly silent. There were rows and rows of shelves that doctors sometimes pulled out to rest bodies in, and when they were shut he knew that they would never see the light of day again. The latest one was an Alakazam, although his body was marred with stitches and incisions where they tried to find out what was wrong. Apparently, they found nothing, and they stored him where the others waited. He was just about to leave when the door opened, and all of a sudden the temperature rose uncomfortably within the room.

 

“I missed the procession,” the Blaziken said dryly, stepping into the room. He wasn’t the one from before, as he was distinctly male, and a Frosslass carrying a pretty bracelet hovered just next to his shoulder as he walked, stopping inches from him as if he wasn’t even in the room. Then, “Oi, Treecko, tell me where they put his body.”

 

“Ahm…” He pointed up at a drawer in the second row. Blaziken’s Frosslass watched as he pulled the drawer out, revealing Alakazam’s body.

 

“Ah, Alakazam,” he said as if Alakazam could really hear him. “I wanted to see ya like this for so long in the revolution… But now that’s it’s happened, I’m not the one that did it.” Blaziken backed away, and without warning he brought his flaming foot down on a metal examination table, smashing it in half. He jumped at the clatter of noise and looked towards the door, expecting security to rush in, but Frosslass sealed the doorway with ice, blocking all entry. “Why, ya old fool?” he shouted, stalking up to Alakazam with record speed and, grabbing onto one of his arms, bringing him out of the drawer and into the air.

 

“Blaziken, please,” Frosslass said. Blaziken ignored her, gritting his beak, and he clenched his free fist before slamming it into Alakazam’s cheek. Expectedly, Alakazam had all the reaction of a dead man, and his blood was so cooled that he didn’t even bruise. Regardless, Blaziken kneed him in his stomach, then he brought his head down to butt Alakazam in the forehead. “Blaziken,” Frosslass warned again as fists pounded on her ice barrier. Blaziken satisfied himself with another minute of thrashing before letting Alakazam hit the floor, scratched-up and still.

 

“This is how ya shoulda died!” he shouted. “And ya told me as much! Ya said that if ya had to go in any way, it’d be by my talons! What happened to that, ya old fart? Ya forgot and let yourself get killed by a coupl’a fools? The King sure as hell couldn’t have killed ya at yer best—hell, he can barely touch me after a nap! Ya shouldn’t have died. This is all—it’s all bull!” He screeched as his ankles exploded in flames and his fists clenched in anger. The Frosslass’ bracelet started glowing with iridescent light and so did a small gem buried in Blaziken’s head feathers. His entire body burst into flames, instantly warming the room and creating the faint scent of burning skin, and his body began to subtly change as the flames formed a strange symbol in the air. With one kick, he reduced the metal shelves to twisted remains, the drawers popping out and depositing the bodies on the floor as flames streaked off of his body and swirled towards the ceiling. The ice barrier melted from the heat and large Pokémon streamed in, grabbing Blaziken by the arms and dragging him backwards.

 

“Somebody take this bastard outta the city!” somebody in the crowd shouted. Blaziken screeched again, his body still flaming as he glared daggers at Alakazam.

 

“When I see you in Hell, I’ll give you a better thrashin’ than anybody else! And I expect a helluva apology for this, Alakazam!”

 

——————

 

At the end of those four months, he thought that he had seen everybody in the Pokémon Center. He could speak a lot better and he could sustain coherent thoughts—finally. He thought that he had seen all the residents in the Pokémon Center in those four months, but at night he went down to the very end of the first floor and discovered that what he had assumed to be a supply closet was another room—or rather, it was a supply closet that had been converted into a room. Maybe the Pokémon Center was too crowded or maybe it was for another reason entirely, but whatever the case he reached up and opened the door.

 

The room was dark, almost painfully so, but a bit of blue light was shining on the floor. He could make out a bed with an IV stand, and there was the faint beeping of a heart monitor too. A dark Pokémon was sitting on the bed staring at the wall. “What now…? Ya wanna cut out mah heart too?” he muttered disdainfully before giving a rattling exhale.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

His shoulders tensed. “Hah?” He looked over his shoulders and his ears fell. “Oh. Just a Treecko.”

 

“Just a Treecko? That’s insulting, Dominic.” Dominic’s ears jumped up and he spun around so quickly that the breathing and IV tubes caught around his waist, causing him to fall ungracefully from the bed to the ground. “Awesome reflexes,” he laughed.

 

“Yer—I mean, _you are_ —this is—”

 

“I’ll save you the breath.” He went over to Dominic and patted his head. Dominic looked up, his eyes wide and full of tears as he grinned breathlessly, probably because the breathing tube had been forcefully yanked from his throat.

 

“Rey…Rey-hes,” he panted, trying to catch his breath. “T-Thought you we-her…dead.”

 

“I’ll explain that, but first let’s get Nurse Joy here before you suffocate.”

 

——————

 

It turned out that Dominic wasn’t in that room due to lack of space, but that he had actually gotten somebody to drag a bed in there so he could sleep without being disturbed. It had worked despite the stupidity, as it took Reyes a long time to find him, but as Dominic revealed he was still what he called “pestered” by the medical staff who only had intentions of giving his sorry ass a chance at life.

 

“Sorry babe,” Dominic muttered with a halfhearted smirk as the Chansey refitted his breathing tube. She gave an irritated huff and an obligatory slap before waddling off. “She’s my favorite,” he told Reyes.

 

“And obviously you’re her favorite too.” Dominic laughed bitterly before lowering his eyes to the ground. Reyes sighed. “How much do you remember?”

 

“I remember getting my butt handed to me on a platter,” he grumbled. “By that freak Mewtwo. Then I remembered trying to save you, and I was blasted…” He inhaled sharply and grabbed his chest, his heart monitor going wild. The Chansey returned a second later to see what was going on. “It’s okay, it’s okay, just had a bad memory,” he told her. She huffed and warned him about the fine line his body was treading, then she warned Reyes too for good measure before leaving. “…That’s all I remember.”

 

“You used an illusion to revive me,” Reyes supplied. Dominic shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t blame you for forgetting. You took some nasty hits during that fight.”

 

“Mewtwo was a _beast_ ,” he said in a low voice. “How did you even—?”

 

“Frenzy Plant,” he explained. “Turned the entirety of my body into common plants.”

 

“But…that’s not true. You’re here now.”

 

“Because of a bit of forethought.” Dominic waited as Reyes sat there in silence.

 

“…Are you gonna explain?”

 

“I can’t, really.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“ _I_ wasn’t there.” He could feel Dominic’s eyes on him as he sighed, saying the words he had practiced for a long while. “Look, I’m not the same Reyes that you know. That guy’s consciousness was forever gone as he did turn into a plant, like I said. I was ‘born’ from seeds that…that the old Reyes made as a last thought. So I am him in every way—except the way that counts, I guess. I’ve heard stories from Sinclair and a few others, but I don’t have any memories of my own.” He risked looking at Dominic and saw him covering his eyes. “…Dominic? Are you upset?”

 

“No,” he said, but his voice broke. “I mean… Okay, yes, why wouldn’t I be? I was just as useless, useless, _useless_ as ever and because of that you had to—”

 

“Dominic. Just shut up,” he interrupted, holding Dominic’s muzzle closed. Startled, he just nodded. “I don’t like hearing you beat yourself up. Mewtwo was horrible and you couldn’t have beaten it by yourself, and anyway I have no regrets about what happened. It was _not your fault,_ okay? Get that through your thick skull.” He was as startled as Dominic at the end of his invective. He pulled away, blinking in surprise. “That…came out.”

 

“Berating me is your second nature at this point,” he muttered. “You couldn’t forget how to do that, no way no how.”

 

“Then it should have sunken in already.”

 

“Habits are hard to break.” They lapsed into silence that was only broken by Dominic’s short breaths. Reyes was scared that his heart might just give up—he already seemed to have a foot in the grave anyway. “You don’t remember anything,” he said.

 

“No…sorry.”

 

“Don’t be,” he whispered before raising his voice. “Don’t be, okay? because you were out there trying and I was just here sulking and feeling sorry for myself. I’m just—” He cut himself off and turned to Reyes with tears in his eyes. “I’m just glad this is over.”

 

“Not exactly,” he muttered, hesitant to bring it up. “There was something else I had seen here. They brought in Alakazam’s body for examination—you know, since he _spontaneously died_ —and while they were wheeling him to the morgue, I saw…” He gave the best recollection he could of what happened in the morgue.

 

“He’s just as levelheaded and cuddly as I remember,” Dominic said sardonically. “But hey, who knew he cared that much about that old creep?”

 

“Even the worst guy can have best friends. Sound familiar, Dominic?”

 

“I’m not the worst, as we’ve seen. You know, if you remembered.” They both became silent at that. “…How are Sinclair and Jay and Asterisk?”

 

“You don’t know?” he asked curiously.

 

“I’m kind of bedridden,” he admitted. Reyes looked at the IV and breathing tube. “Not…because of that,” he said, his shoulders slumping as he sighed. “Remember when I said I was blasted by Mewtwo? It wasn’t just the general kind of superficial crap—I was hit by an Aura Sphere that would make a Sharpedo end up with dentures. I barely had bones not blown to bits. Ha-ha, say that five times fast.”

 

“Dominic.”

 

“There were practically a collection of Blissey and Audino working on me for eighteen hours straight trying to fix what it had broken. Even after that, it was another week for them to repair extensive muscle damage. Trust me, there were Pokémon worse off still than me,” he said in response to Reyes’ expression. “But I’m kind of selfish so I just spent the rest of those long weeks wallowing in my own pain. I can’t control my muscles very well which was why I, ah, flopped when I saw you. I was actually trying to jump off of the bed.” He held out his arms for emphasis, which shook like he was an old man. He let them fall to his lap with a tired sigh.

 

“I feel sorry for you.”

 

“Don’t pity me.”

 

“It’s sympathy, not pity.” Dominic’s ears raised in surprise. He was probably unaware of the difference, what with his life story as told by Sinclair. “And what was that you said when I walked in? That I’d be cutting you up or something?” He laughed pitiably.

 

“Some things couldn’t be salvaged. A lung, for instance, and a kidney, and some of my ear organs, and uh let’s just say that it’ll be a miracle if there’s any kind of Dominic Jr. in the future.”

 

“It could be worse. I saw a lot of Pokémon die. You lived,” he said flatly. Dominic didn’t respond. “Sinclair is fine, although Asterisk can’t produce any flames, and Jay is steadily working his way towards eviction.”

 

“That’s mah Jay,” he chuckled, finally looking a little happy. His expression fell just as quickly. “AB…?”

 

“AB wasn’t even found, Dominic.”

 

“I hoped…I imagined that…” he whispered. “Mewtwo blew him up…just exploded him, and there was blood like he was solid, and I…I miss him…”

 

“My friends are gone too,” he said, “but only from what I’ve been told. I don’t remember their faces or how they made me feel. So, for once, you’re the one that hurts and I’m the one that can only sit here and try to make it better.” He was a lot smaller than Dominic now, but he put his arm around his waist in an attempt to comfort him. Dominic started to complain, then he moaned and started crying, making a horrible wheezing sound past the breathing tube and with his claws digging in Reyes’ side hard enough to break skin. He knew his friend was hurting, and he ignored it all to let Dominic get his feelings out.

 

“They can still die, Dom,” Reyes added, wanting to cover all bases. “Sinclair, Jay, Asterisk… They can still die, and not necessarily from this. From anything, really.”

 

“I…I know, but…” he sniffled.

 

“Blaziken is still out there too, still hates us and probably even more so because of what happened to Alakazam—at least until it’s discovered that Mewtwo is the cause, then it might be Arceus hating us.”

 

“Jeez,” he mumbled.

 

“Lilly is still missing too, and you’ll still have a horrible rep for having killed the ex-Elite Four.

 

“The hell are you doing to me, Reyes?”

 

“I’m listing all of our problems just to put things in perspective,” he said. “Things have never, ever been perfect for us in this almost year that we’ve known each other. That’s not even something I needed to be told; it was just this sense of dread that I woke up with and stuck to me like glue. The stakes are higher, sure, but they’ve always been that way, and as long as there’s even a 0.0001% chance of survival, we’ll make that pass. Do you hear me?”

 

“Y…Yes,” he said in a clear voice.

 

“So I suggest you stop moping and start working to get up and out of here, because I’m a Treecko and I can kick your ass. Do you hear me?” he said in a sharper tone.

 

“Yes sir Mr. General sir,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up. “And we’ll go back home with Sinclair and sit around his table and sing songs around dessert.”

 

“I’m not joking.”

 

“Neither am I,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “That’s my big American Dream, you know? And I’ll remind you about every fun moment we’ve had that you’ve forgotten.”

 

“I doubt that we had many _fun moments._ ”

 

“It’s subjective,” he conceded with a grin. Reyes found it contagious.

 

“Well,” he sighed, smiling to himself. “Guess that’s my dream, too.”

 

“But why my house?” Sinclair complained. Reyes saw him push the door open to scamper up onto Dominic’s lap. He seemed disgruntled at first, then he grinned.

 

“Because you have one,” Dominic said as if it was the most obvious fact in the world.

 

“And don’t forget me!” Jay joined their little gathering, this time with a trail of noise behind him. His ears were bandaged tightly to his head and he moved with an odd limp, but he was still sparking with excitement as he settled on Reyes’ shoulder.

 

“What’s that commotion following you?” Reyes asked.

 

“Oh, uh, I might’ve shocked some people on the way here,” he said offhandedly. Of course.

 

“This is where you were?” Kim and Leroy said, cramming themselves in along with their other company.

 

“I thought I smelled you here! But why a supply closet?” Louis said, also interested in playing body Tetris.

 

“What, no Asterisk?” Jay snorted.

 

“Yo,” Dominic complained, pushing Sinclair’s ear from his mouth, “if you guys make this a regular thing, I’ll need a real room.”

 

“This is what I forgot?” Reyes asked, kicking Louis’ flaming tail from his face.

 

“Um—”

 

“I’m glad,” he laughed, “that I’m still here, still alive, even if I did. I can relive these kinds of experiences with a new outlook and I’m glad we made it as far as we did.”

 

——————

 

In the beautiful city of Ever Grande, amidst the bright flowers and white buildings, laid the bodies of the Pokémon of the revolution. Their families trampled the surrounding plants with their comings and goings, but they were always restored at the end of the day, because he believed that the Pokémon laid to rest deserved a beautiful place to do so.

 

“HERE LIES AZALEA. A LOVELY GARDEVOIR, A CARING FRIEND.”

 

What the ones who etched into her stone didn’t know was the stories of before the revolution, when she would bring Brendan hot milk and honey because he couldn’t sleep, too worried about a test coming up the next day; when she taught Deidrick to fetch instead of constantly burying the knick-knacks around the house; when she always danced for Brendan and only him, because she was horrible at it (even for a Gardevoir) and was so, so embarrassed but never did say no to him. “Caring friend” did not even scratch the surface of it.

 

But that was something he had let go of. It was almost made better, after all, by her being buried with Brendan and Deidrick. It made it easier when Reyes visited every few days to tell them of interesting things. For the first few weeks, it was just him feeling sorry about himself for not being able to save them, then it turned into him feeling sorry for himself for not remembering what had to be the most interesting year of his life. It was during one of those sorry for himself moments that Dominic came and sat with him on the soft grass, and they talked just like they used to.

 

_“You shouldn’t be here,” Reyes said. “You should be in the Pokémon Center resting.”_

_“Thanks for the concern, Mom,” he replied, leaning back on his claws._

_“Dominic,” he reprimanded._

_“Great, now you’re my Dad too. Do you want to be my sister on top of that?”_

_“I was… I’m having a moment.”_

_“I didn’t know feeling sorry for yourself is a private moment now,” he said sarcastically. “It’s really weird how we can’t be on like footing.”_

_“What are you talking about?”_

_“Well, either you’re pitying yourself and I’m babying you or vice versa. I don’t think we’ve ever had a conversation on equal terms—well, if you even remember.”_

_“I don’t quite remember but it’s occurred to me, yes. I think it’s just the weird relationship we have.”_

_“_ Weird _is far from a good word to describe how we relate. I don’t think that there exists a word to describe how we relate, but I don’t have a problem with that.” He grinned, a stark contrast to the grave expression he’d been wearing for the last few months as he had to relearn basic movements with much frustration, not that he was patient to begin with. “I think I have something better to tell your family.”_

He told Brendan and Azalea and Deidrick of the first time they met in Mauville City, and from there him and Reyes kept going, correcting each other and occasionally breaking into stupid back-and-forths over minor details. The thing was, though, that they laughed about it, even the sad parts, because they both acknowledged that without their problems, they wouldn’t have met, wouldn’t have made their friends along the way, and Alakazam/Mewtwo would’ve continued his tyranny. They finished their story, and for the first time Reyes didn’t apologize for what had happened to his family, just thanked them for loving him. They left, and they did the same with Steven Stone’s grave.

 

_“I have to wonder what happens next.”_

_“What happens next? We keep fighting, we keep moving forward.”_

_“Yes, but, Reyes, after that?”_

_“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”_

 

Time passed and Reyes never did become the same as before, but it was okay; he made new memories, and those filled the emptiness inside of him. They still had their moments though, like telling their story of Mewtwo, and when AB’s brother came to them, and there were days that they both woke up from nightmares and days that Dominic and Jay had muscle spasms and days that Sinclair had ghost pains and days Pokémon Champion Brendan had to call them up because Asterisk was catatonic from the fresh pain of grief and days that Reyes wondered what the point of living was.

 

_“Come on Rey lez go to the, uh…to the place.”_

_“Dominic, stop, you’re sick and in no fighting condition.”_

_“’Course I ‘m, I’m in tip-top ship shape.”_

_“Stop. I’m going to go with Asterisk, and you’ll stay here and rest. Sinclair, will you keep an eye on him?”_

_“Of course. This isn’t the first time I had to deal with this stubborn child.”_

_“Ugugu…”_

 

They still had to fight too, not as often as before, but at least twice a week Dominic and Reyes went out to some city on the other side of Hoenn or, rarely, Sinnoh, because Pokémon were idiots and humans were idiots and couldn’t just come to a resolution, not even after such a tragedy, but they were used to it. Did they like it? No, but the world did not stop because they didn’t like something. It didn’t help that Sinclair was a pacifist, Jay was a lazy bastard, Louis quit, and Brendan ran solo. The break between battles was worth it though, when they got the chance to idle instead of run for their lives or, more often, stay at Sinclair’s house. Yes, that was a feeling beyond words.

 

_“You know, I’ve never met a Pokémon as crazy as you, and no Pokémon has ever given me headaches like you, but you’re still my best friend.”_

_“Aww… Quit getting sappy, Reyes, you’re gonna make me cry.”_

 

Time passed and they moved on in their own ways. Asterisk had three chicks, the last Reyes heard, and Dominic rejoiced that she didn’t have to creep on him anymore. Jay found a Trainer just as obnoxious as him that he could waste time with—he couldn’t be happier. Louis and Sinclair became good friends, which made Reyes feel a little better than having him be alone, and Louis had something to occupy his time. There weren’t as many revolutionaries as before once the news of Mewtwo got out, and though most trainers did join to make up for the difference, their weakened force brought the revolution back to an impasse. Who the hell knew when it would ever be over.

 

“So,” Dominic yawned, turning his head towards the ocean surrounding Dewford as he laid with his back to the boat’s side, “what’s this next fight going to be like?” He was older, although it didn’t show as much physically as in his personality, which mellowed out. Reyes appreciated the change, but he preferred Dominic’s occasional childish fits more.

 

“Who knows?” Reyes replied, gunning the motor. “And who cares?”

 

“Not me,” he admitted. “I’d be shocked to death if I woke up one day _not_ kicking ass.”

 

“Same here.”

 

“Doesn’t that make us crazy?”

 

“More like sensitized. We’ve been fighting all of our lives, and these days it’s no different, except we have new trauma to keep us up at night.”

 

“I didn’t think,” he said with a dry laugh, “that I’d live to be twenty, first of all, and that I’d still be waking up screaming like I did when I was a cub.”

 

“You’re never too old to be scarred. Keep that in mind.”

 

“I do.” He yawned again and closed his eyes. “It’s been fifteen years now since the revolution started. D’ya think our American Dream has come any closer?”

 

He tilted his head back to look at the sky and really thought about it for a long while. “I honestly don’t know.” But when he looked back at Dominic, he was asleep. “Hah… Ha-ha…” he chuckled, slapping his forehead. “Just what the hell did I expect from him? Idiot…”


End file.
